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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398439">:)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzardz_uwu/pseuds/Blizzardz_uwu'>Blizzardz_uwu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Hat in Time (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bonding, Cigarettes, Crying, Drinking, Gen, Headcanon, Leaving Home, Mental Breakdown, Missing Persons, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Post-Game, References to Depression, Smoking, Subcon's fucking terrifying, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, a little ooc, brief mentions of cond's bros that may or may not matter, oop don't think the pain is over, vaguing about the birds' past, zalgo text</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:54:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzardz_uwu/pseuds/Blizzardz_uwu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Conductor has disappeared into Subcon to call in a debt he had with a certain entity. Grooves, Hat, and Bow are left to cope with the loss of their friend and, despite what Conductor's note had ordered, solve the mystery of why exactly he had left.</p><p>Meanwhile, Conductor struggles to keep himself in touch</p><p>--<br/>*SORRY FOR THE HIATUS I'M WORKING ON IT ÓWÒ*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bow Kid &amp; Hat Kid &amp; Mustache Girl (A Hat in Time), DJ Grooves &amp; Hat Kid (A Hat in Time), The Conductor &amp; DJ Grooves (A Hat in Time), The Conductor &amp; Hat Kid (A Hat in Time)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 4 Times The Charm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Before reading this, I suggest reading "The Things I Deserve" by storybook-rift and both of the fics by silks0ng. This acts as a sequel to those despite stepping into AU territory. Just know these fics are quoted here :]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     The forest had never felt this way to anyone. When someone were to walk along the path that stretched through the dying - yet still breathing - forest, they'd feel disturbed. Fight or flight, definitely. Who could blame them? It was dark, no matter what time of day it was; everything, even the residents, were dead, though the trees still carried their leaves and the residents of the forest still scampered around. Nothing seemed right when you entered. It contradicted itself in multiple places. One region was entirely ice while another was entirely fire. The forest was never able to be described correctly, some say that it changed every few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Conductor knew all the things said about the place, and though he had only been into Subcon territory once, as he navigated the path now, he felt like he had a clear idea of what he was doing. He knew what were to happen now, but at the same time he didn't. But that didn't disturb him one bit. He continued down the path without reluctance in his step or any knot of anxiety in his throat. Only his mind felt sick, overwhelmed with the racing thoughts that it failed to steady. Conductor let his body take over and go on down the path while he himself tried to break down his thoughts one by one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     For the first time in a long time, and probably for the last time, he took in a deep breath and took note of everything around him. The plants were a lovely yet ominous shade of dead purple, and the path was the only break from all the dark purple, still only being a dark brown with brittle pebbles and dirt. Conductor took note of himself. He had on his regular suit, from the dress shoes to even his conductor hat. He would have come in different clothes, but he never really did feel comfortable with his arms exposed -or any part of his body in fact. Besides, whoever finds him after today will know who he was and why he came here. He was the Conductor, and if today went how he thought it would, he would end off as the Conductor as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Now he had to think about his own emotions. He didn't feel sad, not even a little anxious or unhinged. But… he wasn't happy either. He knew what was coming, but it was what he deserved, right? He gave up trying to identify his mood. He always did. What was the point anyway? Conductor sniffed and crossed his arms, though it was more like he was hugging himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Subcon. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought. Just the name made him feel sour, his mouth tingling and his chest tightening. He kept going along the walkway, growing more and more impatient. Was the path this long last time? He quickened his pace. Pacing. Jogging. Running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     God, can he just get to the point already? It made him wonder if what people said were true. The forest changed every few minutes. He kept running down the path, letting everything else slip by him in blurs. When the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>did this path end? He felt like crying. He really did. But with all the tension in his body now, the tears refused to peak his eyes. Not that he would let them anyway. Eventually his legs grew tired, and he forced himself to skid to a stop. He panted, leaning forward for it was just too exhausting to stand straight. He suddenly grimaced at the thought that decided to weave its way to the front of his head. Though, he supposed this thought had always been in his head since he arrived, but he had buried in every and any other thought.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Will this time be a failure too? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     He had tried this two times before. No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Three </span>
  </em>
  <span>times before. All of which never worked. He put a hand to his neck as he thought about it. Last time he had tried his tie and the metal beam. He still remembered the exact sound of everything crashing to the floor that day. And before that, he had tried disguising it as a movie. It didn't really go as planned, even though it </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically </span>
  </em>
  <span>succeeded. The first… he just couldn't bring himself to do. Conductor growled. There was no way he was failing a 4th time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Conductor regained his stature, clenching his hands to fists, clawing his palms until they were close to bleeding. He strode forward. One foot in front of another. He wasn't backing off now, not when he had come this far. Besides, he had arranged this whole thing just a few days ago. He knew that he should never quit on something he had planned.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Tch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     He wished he knew that before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Well. If it was going to be like this… Conductor began to think of all he had lived through. He had a lovely family. Two good parents and three brothers.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>All dead. </span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His wife.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>Who?</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His beautiful daughter.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>Gone.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grandkids.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>Don't know him.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He didn't notice his steps gradually become slower. His throat closed up and he swore he felt his palms start to bleed from how much he was digging his claws into them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The little hat lass?</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>You tried to kill her.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The Express Owls?</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>They hate you.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Grooves?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     ...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His breathing hitched. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He cares about you, right? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Whatever voice that had been growling in his head was suddenly replaced by another. A lighter, softer voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He tried to help you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Conductor sniffed, not realizing when he completely stopped moving. Had he even gone far from his last stop? Conductor lifted his head to look ahead. The path continued on into shadows. Into uncertain futures. The thought of his rival wouldn't leave his head. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Look. Conductor, darling, I don't want you to go. None of us do."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     The path continued on into shadows.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“It's okay. You're okay. You are okay, you're right here, alright?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Into uncertain futures.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“̸Y̷E̵S̷,̸ ̸I̵ ̷R̶E̴A̷D̸ ̷I̶T̷!̵ ̴O̴f̵ ̶c̶o̷u̷r̷s̴e̶ ̶I̴ ̶p̵e̷c̴k̷i̵n̷g̶ ̷r̴e̷a̵d̵ ̵i̴t̸!̵ ̴Y̷o̶u̷ ̸t̸h̴o̴u̶g̷h̵t̸ ̷n̷o̵b̵o̴d̴y̸ ̷w̴a̷s̷ ̴g̶o̷i̸n̵g̴ ̷t̸o̵ ̷c̵a̷r̴e̶ ̶a̴b̸o̶u̵t̶ ̸t̸h̸i̸s̵!̷?̶ ̷I̶f̷ ̸y̵o̸u̶ ̵s̶u̷c̵c̸e̴e̶d̷e̵d̶ ̴i̶n̵ ̶c̵o̸m̸m̴i̵t̷t̶i̶n̴g̴ ̸p̵e̵c̸k̵i̸n̵g̴ ̵s̷u̷i̸c̶i̷d̴e̷,̶ ̴y̵o̴u̸ ̸t̷h̶o̵u̴g̵h̶t̴ ̶n̵o̴b̶o̸d̸y̴ ̸w̷a̵s̸ ̸g̸o̴i̵n̴g̸ ̶t̸o̵ ̸c̷a̶r̸e̷,̶ ̵b̵e̸c̸a̵u̸s̴e̴ ̵y̷o̸u̷ '̸r̶e̴ ̴a̷ ̴b̵a̸d̸ ̵p̵e̵r̸s̶o̵n̴.̶”̶</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     T̷h̵e̵ ̸p̸a̵t̶h̷ ̸c̷o̵n̸t̴i̴n̵u̵e̶d̷.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     "Y̶e̸a̷h̴,̸ ̵I̶ '̷m̵ ̴g̷o̷n̵n̸a̶ ̵b̷e̶ ̵h̶o̷n̶e̸s̶t̵.̸ ̴Y̴o̸u̵ ̷a̴r̵e̴ ̴a̸ ̸b̸a̵d̸ ̸p̵e̷r̵s̷o̷n̸.̷ ̷Y̸o̸u̴ ̸d̴o̵n̷' ̵t̷ ̶h̵a̵v̵e̷ ̴a̶n̷y̶ ̵e̶m̶p̷a̸t̵h̶y̷,̸ ̸y̵o̶u̵ ̶d̸o̴n̷ '̶t̸ ̸e̷n̸c̶o̷u̸r̵a̵g̴e̴ ̶y̸o̸u̶r̸ ̸c̸a̸s̴t̷ ̷l̴i̷k̷e̸ ̵y̵o̶u̵ ̶s̵h̴o̸u̸l̸d̴ ̴a̶n̵d̸ ̶t̷h̵e̴ ̷o̶n̸l̸y̸ ̵t̴h̶i̷n̶g̶s̵ ̸y̴o̵u̶ ̷c̴a̴r̴e̵ ̸a̵b̸o̷u̷t̴ ̸a̵r̸e̶ ̶y̸o̶u̷r̷ ̵t̴r̷a̴i̶n̸,̸ ̵y̵o̵u̷r̴ ̶a̵l̷c̷o̷h̴o̸l̸ ̴a̴n̵d̶ ̴e̴n̶d̵i̷n̶g̶ ̶y̵o̶u̸r̸ ̵p̴e̴c̴k̴i̶n̴g̸ ̴l̶i̷f̷e̴,̶ ̵a̵p̸p̷a̴r̵e̸n̷t̶l̶y̸.̸ ̶T̸h̵a̵t̸' ̶s̵ ̸a̷l̸l̵ ̶y̸o̵u̷ ̴w̷a̵n̵t̶ ̵t̴o̶ ̵d̵o̸.̵ ̵T̴h̸a̵t̵ '̴s̴ ̸w̶h̴y̴ ̸y̸o̷u̶ ̷w̷e̸r̷e̵ ̶w̵a̴y̸ ̷m̵o̶r̷e̴ ̵q̸u̷i̷e̷t̸ ̷a̸n̷d̶ ̴i̵r̸r̵i̶t̸a̷b̵l̴e̴ ̶t̷h̷a̶n̴ ̵u̶s̵u̶a̵l̴,̵ ̶r̷i̴g̴h̴t̶?̴ ̴B̸e̶c̵a̵u̷s̵e̴ ̷y̵o̵u̵ ̶w̶e̷r̴e̶ ̴g̵o̴i̸n̸g̶ ̵t̸o̵ ̶k̸i̷l̸l̷ ̶y̸o̵u̵r̴s̸e̵l̴f̴ ̴l̷a̵t̷e̴r̸!̵?̶ ̷Y̴o̸u̷ ̸j̵u̷s̸t̷ ̵w̷a̷n̸t̴e̵d̵ ̴t̷h̴e̷ ̸d̴a̷y̶ ̵t̴o̷ ̷e̷n̶d̶ ̵S̴O̴ ̷Y̷O̴U̷ ̶C̸O̶U̷L̷D̶ ̷P̶E̶C̸K̷I̴N̴G̴ ̴K̷—̶"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Ḯ̴͖ͅn̴̦̠͌̂t̶͎̹̐̓o̴̻̥͝ ̸̝͕̃͝u̴͍̐ͅņ̶͠c̴̙͊è̷͈̯ṙ̴̳̤̂t̸̳̉a̵̭̓ī̸̛̪̺n̴̲̗̄̊ ̶̬̣͒͆f̶̳̕̕ͅü̵͎͙ț̷̘̔u̵͔̓r̵̦͌ě̷͙͗s̸͓̾͐.̴͙̋͛</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Y̵̱̥͘ō̶̺̻̚ư̴̥̯ ̷͇͐ȧ̵̰͌r̴͖͗͋e̸̙̯͋ ̵͙͙͒h̸̲̾o̴̢͇̕ṅ̴͖̮ȩ̸̥̍ŝ̵͙̩̋t̶̯̔l̵̠͝y̵̼̒ ̷͎̇S̷̤͙͛Ȏ̵̫̅ ̷̘́̋p̵̧͇̌ë̸̜́c̷͈̫̈k̵̩͔̕i̶͍̪͒̎n̴̲̲̋̿g̵̘̬̐ ̴̙̩s̵̮̊͝e̶̮̱͠ḽ̵̏f̷̲̖̏̍î̶̧̜͐s̶̠͗ḧ̴̝̥́!̸͖̚ ̴̜͈̏̔I̷̺̓t̶̞͛̍ ̶̧̅̿m̸̰̻̿̕ȁ̶̻͙k̴̜̋e̷̻̗͝s̴̖̔ ̷̡̊̐m̴̱̤͗e̷̳͘ ̷̨̜͋S̴̘͈͑̕Į̶̒̓C̴̬͊K̵̤̈!̷̱̃͛”̷̞͊</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Ņ̴͎̥̫͈̙̭̩̫̊̓̈́̈̿̕ǒ̵̼̙̕!̶̝̼̼̠̥͎̕ ̵͉̚S̵̡̛̗̈́̿̃͌͂̽͂͠͝h̴̰̮̹͓͈̗̔̀̋͛̚̚ų̶̡̫̗̖͔̩͙̻̒͐t̵͇̽͐̿̓̽͘͝ ̶̨̦̖̙̺͙̂̊͜͝u̶̧͔̫͈̻̔͑̎̓̕p̸̧̱̝̪̓͗̑̐ͅ!̸̹̟̫͍̖͖̉̆̇̍̓̐̈͒̚͠ ̵̳̱̳͈̭̻̰̲͂A̴̧̢̨̜̬̹̬͇̥̜̐̔͒̿n̸͈̺̗̆̌̌̃͂͋d̴͙̞͙̞͕̥͛͗̎͑͋́͂̽̀̄ ̷̟̈̏̍̾̄͗̕t̷̡̠͇ȟ̶̟̘̞̜̗̲͚̣̔̔͝ȩ̷̨͙͓̖̻̱̈́ ̶̛̺̘͖̻̗̘̺͎̊̓͗̔̊̒͠͝s̸̢̻͓͙̪̰̈́̿̐̔͐́͆͗͊̄͜ȅ̴͎̞͓͔̖̖̮̓͆͛̈́̉̃̅̈́͘c̸͎̃̇̐́͊̾̎̈̕o̶̘̮̐́͘n̶̳̑̑̈́̑̑̓̽̾̚̚d̸̼̜̲͗͂̅͒̂͌ ̵̭̮͎̺̳̈́͒̿̾̍͑t̷̨̡̢̤͚̝̳͎̥̥̄̈͗ĩ̷̧̨̻̠̰̘͑̂͂̾̃̚͜m̸̨̥͚̽͊̂̚ë̶̘̺̫̤̘̤͉́̑̈́̈́͊͌͒̕͜͝?̸̔ͅ ̸̧̀́̿̎̉Y̴̧̩͇͔͇͖͒͒͆̈́̂͐͆͝ȏ̸̢͖̍̈́͆͘u̷̧̘̱̭̘̦͇̔̅͛͝ ̸̦̭̮͓̪̣̠͒͗̏̋ḍ̸̝̟̦̑͗̏̏̾̄̽̍̂͝ͅơ̴̼̯̋̔̍̍͌͐̌͘ ̷͔͙͎̱̫͗̌̓̔͐i̷̧̺͉̦͈̝͍̰̪͂̉̃͛̔̂͘t̴̨͚̰͚̠̭̯̦́͐̐͋ ̵̼̟̭̭̝̲̈́̾̽̎͐̈́̌͝R̷͙͎̦̓̕Į̸̻̯̩̞̤̍̉̕ͅǴ̵̢̥̘͔͇͙̹̣̉H̸͉̹̘̥̙̓̑͑̑͐Ṱ̸̛̺͉̹͎͇͕͚͎̈́̅͛̀̅̉̚ͅ ̴̛̮̖͖̙̺̳͒̈̅ͅO̴̡̝̫̹͍̥̜̫̩̘̚V̵͓͎̭͙͉̯̗̼̓͐͝E̷̤̬̘̭̻͖̖͉̱̔̈̎̓Ř̷̖̟̹̘̳̙̫͔͓̓̔͘ ̴̗̥̮̺̈́̎͐͘͜T̵̖̎̀̅ͅH̴̫̼͎̞͇͉̱͈̪̒̓̈́̋̀̎̅̆͠E̴̛̯̭͠͝͝R̸̰̈́́̒̎Ȩ̷̡̪̣͍̪͇̥͖̲́̇̋̆̓̍̂.̵̤͙̥̺͎̓̂̔̋̈̈́͐̑͘ ̵̢̹̙͍̲̖͉̺̰̽̌̐W̵̧̺͈͉̫̻̬͇̘͌̉̓̀͐͌͑̀ͅḩ̵̣͔͖̲̀e̵̛̜̤͎̱̦̰̐̋̿̓͂̚̕r̵̘̞̣̳͈̪̩͎̽͜ͅe̴̹̝͎͈͈͓͓̰̐̌͋̐͆͗͂̈́̐ ̶̧̛͖͙̦̤͙̮̘͙̩̒̾s̸̳͉̄̅̒̉̒͐̈͛͗̏ȏ̸̲͔͒̈́̂̀̎͘͝m̵̳̯͖͚̹̖̜̣̃̍e̵͓̥̯̤͇̻͔̜̓͂̆͌́b̸̢̺̝̺͎́̔̈́̒͘o̴̢̞̣̲̹͈͖̱͉͎̒͠d̶̗̹͎̊̽͜y̶̧̢̢̖͈̝̞̫͙̲͊̓̄͌̊͂͌̚͠ ̷̭͚͎̞̥͕́͋̇̏̽͒͜ͅc̷̱̹̖̍o̸̪̘͕͆͛̇̇͊͘̚ǘ̸̡̮͂̌̎̄̏̕l̸̨̝̤̳̼̯̗̻̠̰̋̚d̸̝̯̠̱̫͓̗͇̂̍̄̀̊̅͛͜͜'̶̡̱͖͖̥̪̘͑v̷͚͍̬̘͖̂͊̎͒͘e̸̹̳̊͛ ̶̨̺̤̩̼̜̗̹̅̎̾̌̓͘͘͝s̶̨͊ē̸̢̗͈̘̠͍̜͈̞̑̈́̑͛̇͊ͅẽ̴̢̩͖̄̂͝ṅ̷͎̳̗̦̙̺̀͠ͅ ̶̠̗̣̝̳̺̈ẙ̵̭̯͈̙̫͓̀̋̔͒o̸̱̩͛̈́͒͒̏̽͘͘͠u̶̙̘̮̓̄̔̀́̑̈́͘͝.̵̨͖̝̬̭̜͙̥̖̈́͜ ̸̡̢̮͎̞̰͈̦̪̯̊͑͆́̕Ą̵͔͈̗̮̪̈̒̓n̵͚̳̻̜̤͚̄͊̈́̾̆̽̓̽d̸̦̺̲͉̐̈́̉̓̈̿̓ ̵̧̡̻̞̗͚̘̰̩̆͗͒̍̾̑̌̌̇͠ͅI̴̡͓͕̩͉͍̓͝ ̵̜͍̟̻͔͗̈͛͂̊̌̐͆̚d̴͎̯͓̹͈̺͎̯͋̓͌̿̄͘͘͠ḯ̷̩̼̱̥̼͑̿̕ͅͅd̴̢̛̛͕̱̫͉͕͈͉̬̈́̐̏͐̉̕͝!̸̩̞͉͋ ̸̛̛̺̄̂̓̒͌́̌͠Į̸̖͙̟̈́̒̇̇̽̀̌ ̵̺̪͓̯̓̏͜͠s̴͍͕̜̲̓͑͌͊̉̇a̶̭̘̓̿w̴̛̗͓̹͙͉̥͇̳̲͑́̿͛̌͜ ̷͔̥͎̐̍̓̀̂̑̔ͅy̴̡̲̮̾̐̒̿̉ơ̸̧̡̳͈̹̳̤̙̽̈́̈̈́̒͊̓͝͝ȕ̵̫͖͌̈́͝!̸̛͕̅̃̊̍̏̕ ̸͂̃ͅĮ̶̤̝̞̹͛͆͑̕͜͝ ̷̧͙͉̼͔͎̆̆̓̔͂̆ͅw̴̭̱͍̎͛̈͘͝î̵̢̝͈̭̲̳̝̅ͅt̷̨͑̈̈́̏̓́͐̌ń̸̫̺̬̫̞̉̚͝ẻ̴̡̨͓͍̬̳̝̠̝͍̈š̴̘̪̟̼̈̈́̿̄̊̏̚s̴͍͙͂̾̄͌e̵̠͎̜̞͓͕͔̣͑̉̾̀̈́̀̔͌͝͠d̴̡̛̹̭̭̺͒̒͊̂͒͛͐ ̸̬̞̙̘̖̆̎̌̈́̉̐͠ͅy̸̢̢̮͇͘͜ͅo̶̳̥̣̰̣̟̳̦̤̾͛͆̌̇̌͠u̵͕̲̪͇̗͖͗̑ ̴̘̘̫̲̙͗t̶̨͎́̈́̄͝r̴͎̼̱̝̹͕̰̆̅̈́y̴̛̛͖͎̫͖̪͇̎̃̐̏̌̅͠ͅ ̵̢̻̮̺͕͉̲̄̓̈́̕̕t̵̰̻̯̞̜͖͋̔̇͒̅̎̔̈͛o̸̧̡̗̹͙͔͓̒͜͝͝ ̵̡̛̜͕̠̯̭͆̋́̓͆̈́p̵̨̛̮̈́͋̏̂͂̈́͠͝e̸̡̢̦̻̪͚̫̱̲͊̑͆͝c̶̠̓̚̚ḱ̷̦̣͚̮̃̅͒̈͑̍̈̕͝į̸̽̑̔͒̾͠ṇ̴͓͌̿̈́̍͐́͐̕͠g̴͕̪͔̗͇͈̟̟̓̎̕ ̶̳̹͎́̇̉̾̓́̐̿̚k̷̛̛̭̤͍̰̂̊̓̿̈́̃͠i̷̱̺̥̜̲̥̝͇̊̈́̇̉͒͜l̵͇̪̖̞̠̻͇̊́̽̿͋l̴̨̼̦̩̣̤̋̓͆͛̿̚͜ ̶̛͉͓̮̪̺͍͙͕͍̰̈́ỹ̸͕̜͉̐̎̇̈͜͠o̷̠͇͇͎̘̘̝̤͓̔̐̾͋̄̌̏̓͜u̴̠̓̓͑͑̽ŗ̵͔̗̦̉̍͌̎͋ş̸̨̘̫̣̙̑ë̵̢̝͉̜̭̯̳̗͋̅̑̌͐̄̈́͆̊ľ̴͉f̵̢̠͍͇̰̳̽̈̋̈́̓͛̊͠!̸̮̳̲̣̼̝͕͔̪͚̀́̐͛̂̔͑́ ̶͙̣̼̼̥͓͉͐͑̃͠ͅY̷̥̜̋͝ȍ̶̡̧̝̤͙̜͙̫̺͖̍̉̑͌̉ṷ̶̢̧̭͖̭̜͈̹̒͂ ̸̛̣͎͓̯͓̩̔̆̈́f̶̨͚͙̩̫̋͂͑́̑̏̈͘͠e̷̛͎̦͈̝̍͛̉̍̑͜l̶̡̛̼̫̫̞̳̲̙̙̓̑̋̓̆̇l̴̨̞̣̹̳̟̓̌̉͗̓̇̊͠ ̷̞̅a̵̝̠̟̟̓̓̑́̍̇̅͝s̴̞̿̊̌̽̊̐̚l̵̢͙̤̝͑͋̾̈́̏͝e̸͈͆͋͒̎̚ͅę̶͇̱̩̼̤̼̠͈̽̑̈́̔̋͊̇̎̈́p̷̹̄̃̄̇͘͝͠ ̸̧͓̝̦͈̽̽̑̄̿̃̂͜a̸̺̱̩̥̦̣̭̟͎̋̎͊͒f̵̛͍͉̥̟̥̺̼̐̎͒̋͋̈́̚ţ̶̛̺̩̠͇̑͊̎͋͊͝͠ẹ̸̖̎̄͑̽̈́͊̚r̴̹̟͙̭͖̗̍̍̂͛͜͜ ̶̜̫͚̅͑̾̓̈̊̅i̴͓̻̺͚͋̀̏̓͒̿͗̚t̸̺̜̉͆̌͊̈́̄͊!̸̹̹̓̾ ̷̫̩̺̭͔̭̱͖̳̂̀̔̽̓Ȧ̵̦̭̋̏̈͠n̴̺̂̋͛͂̍͑͆̈́ḍ̴͇̯͈̟̫̠̜̋͒̄͐͆͌̆̚ ̴̢̧͚̤͈̤̫̙̿̿̕͝͠w̵͓̘̮͐̀̓̏̑͑ḧ̵̬̫̹͎́͑ä̶̮͘͜t̷̨̆̃̑͒͂̈́̓ ̴̡͚̲̫͚͙̖͑̄i̵̤̫͔̗̱̖̘̞̗̾̔̉f̵̡̟̜̝̪̥̭̥͠ ̵̡͇͚̰͓͛̈̾͑͂̚̚y̷̖̺͖̥͖̫̽̏͜͠ô̷̰̺̬͈̹̪̾̀͊̅͊̽͋̀ư̷̧̯̭̾̇̋͜ ̷͇̥̽͊͗d̵̻͈̥̯̩̽̈́̎͘͜͜͝î̷̧͎̼͓̲̩͉̉̓͗͝ͅͅȩ̵̥͓̙̝͔̣̟̔ḍ̷̛̲͚͚̠̼͒́̍͂͑̒̽̕͝?̶͖̥̠̓̆͗̉̈́̔ ̸͕͝S̴̡̢͎͙̲͙͇̻̲̞͗̃̔̾̾̕ò̴̙̣͇͖̝̖̔̈́̈́̊̊͒̑̍͝m̸̼̄̅͗̃̓̚͝ę̷̬̜͌̌́͘̕ ̵̟͈̬̻̳̪̀̉p̵̧̮͇͙̟̫͍̆̊o̸̲͎͚͚͍͛̈́ơ̵̧͕̰͓̲̚r̵͎̰̝̻̦̀͑̐̆̂̎̆̕͝ ̶̺̼̼̯̙͊̾͊̅̊͗̃̿̑͘ô̷̧̄͠͠͠w̸̢͔͈͚͉̍̀͌̅̄̊̐̅̕͝l̸̛̘͈̬̞̖̮͙̥̓̒͊̅́̈͗͜͠,̴̙̘͎̜̮̼̊̌͌̿̊̇͜͝͝ͅͅ ̷̢͙̊͂͒͂̈́͜͜ŏ̵̳̺̰͎̫̙̘r̷͈͎̯̭̦̊̆ ̶̼͇̠͛̋͒̊́̾̄͠p̵͖̳̺̫͛̀̅̂̋̂̊̕͘ẽ̶̡͖͓̲͝ͅn̵̳̱̮̾͛͝g̵̢̨̻̻̤͈̤̪̭̓͑̍͒ư̶̡͉̙̖̻͈̇̕͠į̴̧̹͕̖͉̠̩̆̿͑̕̕ņ̴̯̣̩̐̈́͋̋̌̈́̈̾ ̴̧͎̬̯̝̺͓͓̞͉͛̾̔̚͝͝ẁ̸̧̲̖̭̯͕o̵̜̤͎͆̽́̏u̶̬̦̮̱̱͚̼͔͍̍̆̃̈͋̍̍͐͜l̵̼̞͎̥̥͍̣̩̥͊̏̈̽́͜d̶̺̯̠̻͓͍̐̾̍̍ ̷̗̟̙̦̭͐h̶̨̘̰̙̳͚͚̦̹̬͐̊̎̓̏̆̓͝a̵̧̮͖̣̭̬̽v̵̘̼̰̩͕̩͎̩̬̠̋͆̽̑̓͐̕͝e̸̡̠̟͉̲͍͓̰̋͛̈́̕ ̶̯̘͚͖̟̠̱͋͋͝t̴̖͙̖͔͎͎̿͂̐͂o̸͇͐̈́͋͐̌͝ ̸̛̥͎̞͎̳c̵͕͍̹̫̙̆̎̈́͐ḷ̸̘̹͆̅̿̏̾̿e̴̯̹̩̋͌̊ả̷̠̖̙̍͂̂̾̑̕͠n̷͔̘̭̭̲͕͖̪͝ ̵̩̻̗͇̦̞̟͔̑̽̍̋́̑͜u̷̮͆͆̔̾́̍̍̊p̶̧͉͉̊̿͂̈͝ ̶̱̝͋̂͒̐͂̿w̸̩̹̖͓͐̾̂̍͠͠h̶̝̤͎̣̜̩̗͎͑͑̏̿̕ḁ̴̞̝̻̊͆̈́̏̏̕͜t̶̰̺̓͗ ̷͔̼̬̬͒̊̔͆ͅy̵̧̛̬̪̲̺͍͙̬̓ö̷̺̠̱̩̝͖̯̐͛̋̚͝ų̷͍͓͇̣̪̉̚ ̷̡͍͈̟̪̹͚̆l̴̨̖̼̲̮͍͚̮̭̍͠ė̴̢̢̧̡̧̛̙̦͇̫f̷͔̬̼͕̒̈́͐̂̀̋̈̆̄t̵̞̺̩̼̳̞͆̂̈́̏̉̓͠ ̵̛̣́͝b̷̬̠̟͍̈́͊̋̽̂̄̕e̸̦̗̬̱̼̝̫̳̅h̷̹̠̞̻̭̟̾̄͗̑͒ͅḯ̶̡͓̥̫͍͒̏n̴̨̖̪̠̝̐̓͘ḑ̸̗̲̹͎͎͙̉̔͌̾́̂̓̋.̵̢̧͉̱̥̲̥͒̋͐͆̾̓̽͘̚͝ͅ ̵̺͓̱͖͚̟͇͖̈́͗͋̓͌ͅỸ̸̘͈̯̲̺̹͙͜͝ǒ̸̭̘͚̭̹̪̏́̍̒ư̸̫͔̤͚̄̎̂̄̓̇'̷̼͔̩̺̮̪̥̾̈̑̆̓͐̕͘͜͠͝d̵̮̩̭͈̖̆ ̸̧̫̦̩̜͙̐͛r̷̢̯͖̳̥͍̽̈́ę̶̢͙̖̺̊̀͊̓͑̐a̸̺̱̜͍̫̕l̴̛̛̗͇͕͚̜̙̳͓͇͊̾̿̏̈ļ̷̰͙͐̉͆͋͒͛̓͌y̷̛͚̺͔̘͔̺̘͑́̓͋͊̂͝ ̷̺̫͝d̷̫͌̈̐͝o̴̢̦̬̙͍͚̱̦̊̊͊̐͠ ̵̡̢̢̯̗̞̲͉̝̐̀̔T̸̨̥̗̱̖̺̦͉͚̥̈́̓͂̔̚͠Ȟ̷͕̭̫̱͙̹͕̲̹̎̂̅̅͋̂̾̅͝ͅÄ̸̢͚́͂͐͗͊̾Ţ̶͈̭̘̌̆̇̌͜!̸̦̖̄̃̆͗͌̀͒̕?̴̨̺̮̪͙̪̘͖͕̘̒̾̔ ̸̤̙̱͔͈̱͎͌̈́͜͜T̴̟͐̉̌̇̑O̸̡̻̜̤̒̉ ̷̨̗̪̳̬̤̩͝Ë̵͈̜̤͈̥̺̯̺͕́̽̔̾͗̈̚͘V̸̢̮̖̩̘̺̰̭̓̚ͅE̴̡͙͉̱̱͓̰̾̆̆̅͒̅̓̀̕͘R̵̳̓́͋̓̏͘͝Ÿ̴̧̛̳͚̦̱́̌̿̄͠ͅƠ̷̡̥̼̲͖̥̌͌̿̊̎͠N̴͖̪̬̺͎̯͍̍͐̐͗̊̿͑̚E̷̡̨̦̲͇̞̠̽͊͑̅̈́͌͐̈́́͜͜ͅ!̷͓̬̺̘̰͈̥͈̞̃̎̾̕?̴̧̛̬͛͂̊͆̈́̉̇͠͝ ̷̩̹̳̭̺̌̑̋͆̽͒͗T̷̢̨̟̆̓̌͜ͅo̷̱̠̻̐̅̂͗ ̸͖̥̗̭͖͖͖̤͔̘͌̎̎̚t̶̲̹̓̉̌̓͜ĥ̶̨̯̈́o̶̳̊̃͘͝ŝ̸̳̯̰̳̳̑̒̊̚e̸̦͎͍̣̔̿̐̽͌̔̓ͅ ̸̫̦̗̟͇̬͖̾̎̽̀͜l̶͇͚̟̲̮͖͑̐͛̈́̔i̷̻̞̫̟̩̰̖͛ͅt̵̨͉̞̯͉̺̳̳͚̑͆̏t̷͕̖̱͖̲̐̈́̽̅̊̏l̵̰̕ȩ̷͍̯̬̜̜̬̳͚̹̓͒̾̓̂ ̶̛͚̾̍̏̉b̴̡̛̭͓̿͘ã̴̡̧̜̖̀͛b̸̨̦̘̘̤̟̄ĩ̷̯̲̟͎̱̿͜ḛ̶̦̹͇̯̩̜̟̑ͅs̵̼̪͚̯͕̊́́͂̓͜ ̷̨̢͔͖͎̪̠͙̪͓̍͆͑́̔͂̽w̴̞̠̬̳̠̒̈́̔͝ͅḧ̵̘̖́̓̋̉̂̂̉͘͠ơ̷̛̠̪̟̮͖̣̰͌̒̿͂̈́̈́ ̸̧͕̅̓̋w̴̫̫̦̬̪̞̯̗͖͚̾̆̕o̶̢̧̳̪̰̺͍̲̲̩̒̾̾̀̕͘ũ̴̪̽̅͂̐̚͠͝l̵͙͙̫͍̝͕͔̊͒̅͐̎̋͘ḋ̸̢͚̽͛̔̚ǹ̵̢̝̯͇͈̩̹͙̩͎̎̇̇̈́̀̽͝͝'̵͚͉̳͕́̓̈́͑͛͊̈͛̓̕ṭ̶̡͈̼̮͗ ̸̨̦̞͙̣̟̰͊̔̅̐̎̎͘͝u̸̦̲̥̰̜̓̃̈͜ņ̸̙̬̩̟͚̗̌̓̓͠d̴̨̨͕̱̂̇̔̿͛͌̈́̓̚͠ẹ̴̖̟̈̔̓̈̐͜r̸̛̠̠͖̖̯̅͐́̃̎̃̎͠s̸̛͇̑́̑̈͗͗̈́̄̕t̴̡̛͚͉̪̺̭̣̥͍̭͛͛͐̋̏͛̍̆͋ȁ̵̢̺̝͔̗̫̣͕̿̑̓̎̕ͅn̸̗̥̪̠̫̘̰̘̩̪͋̈́̾̿̈̎͘͝ḑ̶̤̠̺̳͙̣͉̱̱̈́̀̐̀̈́͒̇̈́͘ ̴̧̦͒̐͆͆a̶̩̍̀̿̓͒̇̚ ̸̡̢̧͍̝͈̲͉̄̊͛t̵̮̋h̷̨̘͓̜̣̠͛̎̋͘̕ḭ̴̛̯̹͉̖͙͍͙̋͐̄͐̅̅̀͂ņ̴̜̹̙̣͊̿̂̓̏͐̋̅͝g̶̢̨̛͈̞̯͚͚͕͆̄̀͐͒͝,̵̨̡̹͍̯̝̞̟͓͇̅̄͑̈́̆̈̈́̓̽̕ ̵̩̳͉̟̤̫̜̟͑͛̌̊̓̓̄̐͝͠ȁ̷̧̹̟͈͕̥̫̩͙̎n̶͍̮̔ḑ̸͚̲̩͉̲̦̂̔̾̀͆̈́̈́̏͆ͅ ̷͇̩͚͍̖̔̅̃͛͌͛̕̚t̸̺̅̏̚o̴̻̖͙̝̬͖̽͆̊̽͆ ̵̨͓̤̰͇̺̦̤̂w̸̧̧̞͌͑̓̊͒͋̾ḩ̶̬͈̋̽̚ơ̶̭̙͎͍̭̐̄ë̵̢́ͅv̵͕̤͉̫̝̂̇̈́̓̈́̕͝͠ẹ̶̛͈̬͔̰͈̱̼͐̒͛̅͜r̷̻̱̾̏͗̑͆̿̚͝ ̴̧̧̤̞̼͚̝͈͙̬͆l̸͇̍̈́o̴̢͚̘͚̤̙̍̔o̴̡͎͔̅̆́̈̈́̄̀͝ǩ̸̨̧̘̲͕͗ș̸̭̐̓̆͗͛̇̂͑͝ ̸͈̞͛͊̎͊̕͠ͅâ̴͚̪̩̻̠͒̒́̕f̵̙̝͇̞͕̱̈́͗̍͂̄ț̷̢̛̬̤̙̖̂͛̊͂̇̏̑͠e̸̜̗̟͎̓́̓͂̾̌̋̕r̸̩͇̭̓͛͐̎̅ ̸̨̗̳͚̫̖͉͖̦̈t̶̙͇̯̝̺̝̦̖͔͐̓ͅh̸̛̺͉͖̲͔̎̈́̂̅̆̽͝ͅͅͅe̵͓̖͎m̷͚̣͋̾͘͝͝ ̶̹̥̝̤̙̖̻͔̗̖̍̋̍̔̕w̶̢̧̤͊̈́̈́̈́ȍ̶̡̧̫͎̯͚̠̃̾̕̚ụ̸̼̬͕̗̙́̀̽̚͝l̶̞̈́͒͛̉̚d̵̛̰̼̐́̊͌̎̍̉͘ ̶͕̺͔̀̽͗͊̀͝h̶̨̦̣̳̟̋̆̏͊̀̌͐̐̚ă̶̡͚̰͖̖͈̗̰͖͎v̶̧͎͍̮̫̜͔̣͇͕̋ẻ̷̛̐͊͑̍͊͆̇̕ͅ ̵͍̳̱̬͖̣̩͇̍̈́̚͝͝ţ̴̛͇̲̲̝̓͑̅̂̊o̵̧̞͇̘͋͒͠ ̴̦̞̜̏̅͑̕̕b̵̡̪̔̑̈́͐e̶͓͆̋̂̑͋͝͝ą̴̻͈̫̞̯̙̭͘̚ͅȑ̶̠͔̈́̇̂͑̔͝ ̴̧̳͇̙͍͈̃͒͂̑͐͜͠ͅw̶̢͉̭̖͍̭̘̙̿̇̒̉̈́̕͜ȉ̸̩̥͌̈́͋͊t̶͔̼̔̇̾̽̓h̵͚͐̑̒̈́̈̽͑̿̅ ̶͇̻͚̪͔͉̱̣̈́̇̄̈́̒́̿̈̾̕͜t̸̙͎͚̤̳͖̼̟͒h̴͚̊e̶̢̤̫̩̙̭̼̜̚̕͜ ̴̡̨̪̖̯͉̩̜̱̍͗͛͆f̸͚̪̺̆̄̍̕͜͝ã̵̳̀͑́̐͗̉c̴̢̋̄̈̑͂̎͋̀̕͠t̵͍̱̭͊͜ ̶̯̤̘̺̫̿͂̈́̽̚͝t̶̹̻̒h̶̡̛̬̦͎͕̰̩̒͐̾͐̉͘͠͝a̷̧̝̪̙̟͈͍̔̈́͌̐̑͜t̷̨͓̗̳̣̱̑͛͑͊̒̔̕͝ ̸͔͗͌ẗ̷̲̹́̈́̏͐h̵̖̥̞͕̗̽͋ę̷̛̤̻́͌͐s̸̪̗̦̹̝͗ę̴̙̪̦̤̒̊̒ ̴̨̡̡̛̛̼̞͍͉͔̲͛̈̿͑̚͠k̴̡̗̪̭̮̦͎̄̏̋͝i̸̢̫̫̗̹̠̇̍̋͝d̸̘͆̾̃͝s̵̟͕͈͚̩̘̆̃̽̀̈́̑̚̚͠ ̴̘̈́p̷̨̢̢̜̬͓̩̈́̾̎̆͠r̷̼̀ỡ̴͍̟̍͒b̶̜͍͂̑̔̑͌̕a̵̻̠̲̣͓͎̾͆̄̕͝b̷̢͊̅̈̐̋ľ̸̢̢̨̤͈͎̮̭̖ͅy̵̲͙͕͚͎͓̬͖̍͌͛͒̂͛̾̓ͅ ̷̰͕̝̹̖͙͈̟̊ͅd̶̤̒̈́o̷̫͙̝͉͆͂̔̐̉̊̽͐͠n̷̯͚̬͙̬̩͔̔̿̃'̴̣̜̫̼͔̦̄̒̾͆̔͑͐͊̐̑t̶̢̞̒̽͐͊̑͠ ̷̳̖̪̳̼̱͙̿̑̃̐ḣ̴̛̹̺̜͎̾̇͌̓͐̅͂̇ă̷̗̺̺͚̜̔͛v̶̩͍̮̹̺̟̱̑ę̶̠̖̤̖̠̦͋̎ ̵̡̙̼͚͉́́͛͘͝ă̵̭̭̜̰͖̬͇̹̲ ̷̧͈̝̈̃̚͝͝g̴̫̩̪̯̮̫̖̭̫̔r̸̨̡̨̜̭͎̣̹̖̪̈͗̆̀̓̐̉̕ą̴̗̝̰̹̬̻͓͇̹̒͋̾̈́̒n̵̗̗̞̬̜̲̓̾̈́͆͛͝d̸̩̮͚̙̻̂͗f̷̢̞̪͍̗̹̟̖͋̽̈́̇͆̀͌̒̚a̷̮̭̱̯̥̜͔͕̿t̶̢̗̠̿͊̈́̽̈́h̵̡̦̲͎̪̻̜͈̮̏̽e̴̖̖͎̰̓͛̀͗͘̚r̶̛̹̩̳̳̥̣͍̆̈́̒̊̍̃͜ ̶̼̑á̵̝̭͈̱̹̳̖̥͇͜n̶̢͈͈̯͎̮͎̯̱͓͊̉̏̇͋̃̾̔̑̕y̵̥̥̭̼̖͑͑͑̎̇̈́m̶͕͇͓̰̓̆͌̆͆̓ǫ̵̭̞̯̈̏ȑ̷͇̋̉̈̀͐̍̒͘͠ĕ̶̱̟͉̙͙̒̂̔̑͂͝.̸̰̏̈͋̓”̷̛̦͉͖̘̱͛̎̆̓̉</span>
</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>
  <span>     … </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The path continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Conductor continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He wiped his face, feeling the hot tears sink into his sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves?</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>Doesn't care.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>Hates you.</span>
    </em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Conductor wanted to keep going. Just get this over with. Yet somehow thinking of everything the penguin had said to him took everything out of him. It hurt to move. Just one more step… Just one…</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"So you finally decided to come back." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Ah yes. That voice. The voice that was faint, yet it weighed down on Conductor whenever he heard it. The voice occasionally hitched, almost glitchy. Sometimes it seemed like their voice was just incompleted. Conductor watched the world in front of him start to turn red, and eventually he realized that everything had turned into strings. The ground below him turned foggy, and before he knew it, he was back into whatever world he was brought to when he spoke to this entity.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"So… You're really ready to do this? You're quite a bird, Conn-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>"Listen here." Conductor growled, trying to shove back the last of his tears. "Before you go on telling me about "everything I have to live for," I've already thought about that." He sniffed, hoping whatever this voice was couldn't see him with tear marks on his feathers. "None of them care. Even if they would, they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" There was no response for a few seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Woah there, Chompers. How about you think about that answer of yours? With those tears on your face, I don't think you mean that."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Conductor put his hands to his face, rapidly trying to rub the streaks from his feathers. "Who cares?" He growled. "Just get on with it. Kill me." The silence was longer this time. Conductor looked around. There was no one to be seen in the mist that surrounded him.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Now now, Connie-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't</span>
  </em>
  <span> call me that."</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Well, Mr. Conductor. I don't think you realize that what we arranged… it isn't death you've been preparing for."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Conductor sighed. There was no way he was dealing with any of this any longer. "It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>death." His tone was quieter now. "I've left what I was supposed to. I cleaned up the office, the knives are tucked away, I wrote the damn note. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Hm. I think it's all your fault in making this harder. Patience, Chompers. Now, I don't think I can kill you just yet…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>"Yet? If you can do it, then do it!" Conductor shouted, his feathers flaring. No way was this going to fail </span>
  <em>
    <span>4 times. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Oh, Conductor. I can't give you death just yet…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Suddenly red strings began to wrap themselves around Conductor's wrists. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They were just like the other string. He fought the urge to feel at his neck. The strings gradually tightened on his wrists, almost to the point where they dug through his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"But I think there's another thing you'd like to comply to." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Conductor gulped. He glanced at the strings. He took a long breath in, staring ahead for a moment before looking back up, where the voice seemed to be coming from. "What would that be?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The voice chuckled, the strings tightening even more until they were turning Conductor's hands cold and leaving marks on his wrists. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Trust me, Connor. You won't feel a thing…"</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. All My Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grooves arrives to the studio for another day of work, only to find it devoid of a certain owl, an envelope in his place.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Grooves yawned as he pulled his key from his jacket pocket. Yet another day of working at Dead Bird Studios, yet another day of waking up as early as 5 AM just to arrive on time. The penguin tried shaking off the sleepiness, moving his head side to side as he flipped on his sunglasses to avoid the harsh glare of the bright lights of the studio when everything else was dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He entered the reception, and he knew there was no point in trying to stop himself from looking over to Conductor's side. The Express Owls were standing by the doors, though they seemed a little more anxious than usual. Grooves thought nothing of it. They were always full of anxiety, and the moon penguin didn't really know what to do about that. He's tried already. He looked back at the doors before his eyes darted to the posters above the trophy case. The first one always caught his eye, and no matter what else he thought, he blamed the bright orange feathers of Conductor. He knew there must've been more to that, but he dared not to admit it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He could never look at the owl without feeling at least a little sad. In fact, there was always a tight knot of emotions at the bottom of his throat whenever he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>about Conductor. Thought it was mixed with happiness, envy, and occasionally even empowered. But with everything that's recently happened, bitterness, sorrow, and anxiety always made up most of the knot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Now that he thought about it, usually Conductor was already shouting at his owls to wake up. Grooves would always hear him from the reception - since the owl always arrived earlier, almost like he never left, but this morning was awfully quiet. The penguin glanced to the Express Owls. Is that what they're so worried about? Something suddenly weighed down in his chest. This wasn't about the recent events, was it? It had to be though. There couldn't be any other reason Conductor was so quiet. As if his thoughts called them over, an owl came stalking up to him. "Have you uhm… Have you seen Conductor at all?" The Express Owl asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>So Conductor wasn't here. That might explain it. But Conductor was always here before Grooves. "No, I haven't. Are you sure he's not just in his office?" Grooves raised a brow. Often Conductor would try working late, but would only end up asleep in his office, left for Grooves to find him and be forced to wake him. The owl shrugged, averting his eyes to the floor. "The door was locked, and no one answered when we knocked. So probably not." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Something about that set Grooves on edge. He never really trusted Conductor to be anywhere on his own, first it was because Grooves thought the owl would cause trouble. But now, he was worried about what the owl would do to himself. He brushed past the owl, heading right through the studio doors on Conductor's side. Usually Conductor hated it when any penguin entered his side, but the owl wasn't here now, and it was now Grooves' job to find him. He didn't understand why he felt the need to find him, he never really did understand why he felt the way he did about the owl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He patrolled the entirety of that side of the studio, checking all of the sets, knocking on the office door again, even going down to the basement to check every single room. Unfortunately for his ever-growing anxiety, Conductor was nowhere in the studio. He huffed. Dear God, where was he? What crazy idea did he manage to fulfill? Grooves paced up and down the hall of the basement, picking at the gold buttons on his sleeves. Maybe he's worrying too much. Maybe Conductor was just a little late. Maybe he's letting himself have a day off for once. Grooves sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever Conductor may be, hopefully he's not </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>dead.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He made his way back up to the reception, informing the owls to just wait a little bit longer before he went to record on his own set. He propped himself up in his director chair, letting his penguins build up the set as he rested his head in his hand. He knew he wasn't going to get his mind off of this at all, no matter how many times he told himself that Conductor was just late at that he'd be walking through the doors at any second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>If- </span>
  </em>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>When</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> he arrives, you can check on him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Grooves told himself. He set it there in his head, to go check on the owl once he arrived to make sure he was just late and not doing anything stupid. Grooves snapped his head up when he realized the penguins had already gotten everything ready, and scrambled for a clapperboard. He glanced at the penguins, before closing his eyes for a moment. Just for a moment, because in the darkness behind his eyelids he saw a quick flash of Conductor. Conductor's face the day he had tied his necktie to the metal beam. The way the owl looked at him as he was scolded for trying, tears flooding his eyes, his ears flattened, and the absolute horror as Grooves yelled at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Grooves snapped his eyes open, clutching the clapperboard tightly. His breath shaky, he raised the top of the board. "T-take one…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clap.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>There was something watching him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He didn't know if it was benevolent or malevolent. But he'd learned enough from this world to know whatever it was…it wasn't anything normal. It was old. Very old. Older than the trees, older than the land. It made him feel small. Insignificant. Like standing in the presence of a god and hoping you wouldn't be smote simply for </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>being.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Every hair on his body stood on end and something reached out to him. He couldn't see it, but he could </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> it. It wanted him to feel. To </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Grooves!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Grooves jerked awake for the second time that day, his heart hammering and goosebumps covering his skin. He looked up, seeing Hat Kid hurrying over to him, looking upset. "Hattie," he said, straightening his glasses and trying to keep the residual fear from his dream out of his voice. "What is it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "It's The Conductor," Hat Kid said. Grooves sighed, rubbing his temples.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "What did he do this time?" he asked, trying to rub off the sleepiness. Did he really fall asleep during filming? For how long? "Really, if he wants to keep doing dumb things these days—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "It's not that," Hat Kid cut in. "He's…I don't know </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is! He's not in his office, his train's still here…" She swallowed hard, looking pale. "He's never done this before."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The fear in the girl's voice was all Grooves needed to take this a bit more seriously. He led the way back to Conductor's side, where Bow Kid was sitting in one of the sets, staring at the door as though hoping Conductor would show up at any minute. Grooves headed over to Conductor's office quietly with Hattie in tow, not caring that there was no answer earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "We thought he was in there too," Hat Kid was saying as they walked. "His door was shut, everything was quiet in there…but when me and Bow went to check, he wasn't there." He stayed back around the edge of the door frame as Grooves walked into the room, not bothering to question how the kids had gotten it unlocked. They always found their way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The office was actually cleaned, like Conductor  had never even stepped foot into it. And if he was just running out for something like an emergency, he wouldn't have made it up right away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>he would've been back by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Grooves backed out of the room, that hollowness in his chest starting to hurt again. He felt ice cold and ill as he hurried to the reception and outside, taking a brisk round of the property, hoping to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     But there was nothing. No sign at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He ran his hands through his hair, trying not to let his nerves fray with panic, his throat itching to start shouting his rival's name, an urge he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely</span>
  </em>
  <span> managed to contain. He took a few deep breaths before heading inside, noticing that Bow Kid hadn't stepped away from the doors since he first saw her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "…Darling?" he said softly. "…do you know….I mean…." He didn't know what he meant. He took in Bow Kid's expression, which was a perfect blend of worry and sadness. Like she knew in her heart something had happened, but she didn't know what, or why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Bow Kid rubbed her arms quietly, shaking her head. Grooves sighed, and began looking through the studio for some sign of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A note, an explanation, anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Yet another round throughout the entire studio turned up nothing. Grooves walked onto the train, expecting the same- some frozen in time reality as if Conductor were still there- but paused when he saw, at last, something out of the ordinary, at the very front of the train.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The train car looked as though Conductor had been in the process of clearing it out. Personal items and files were in boxes along the walls, and all that remained were two framed photos and a manila folder with an envelope on top, resting on the chair by the control panel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Grooves swallowed hard, shutting the door a little behind him and walking around the desk. The two photos in the frames caught his eye first. One was of him and his brothers, making funny faces for the camera. It felt strange to see him so happy, and even stranger as he scanned the faces of the three brothers. They looked so similar, only telling between them was their shade in feathers and the fact that the Conductor was the only one without visible eyes. The second was very old, and depicted two other birds that Grooves had to look away from for a moment. He slowly looked back and picked up the older picture, looking it over, noting the fine condition it was in. Conductor must've cared for it well, despite all the memories it carried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He tore his eyes from the photo and lowered them to the chair. The envelope on top of the folder simply said in small yet messy handwriting </span>
  <em>
    <span>"</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>GROOVES</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Grooves picked up the envelope, holding it in his shaking hands for a few moments before shifting it to the side, opening the folder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Inside was his deed to the studio, a quitclaim signed by Conductor, the bills to the studio, and several other documents Grooves recognized as important pieces concerning his ownership over the studio.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Sometimes I wish I never have to share this place with </span>
  </em>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>you!</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He shook his head, internally reeling over how </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> he sounded in his own head. Had he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>sounded like that? He looked down at the folder of documents, tracing his finger quietly over the leafs of paper. Okay. So. Conductor came through on Grooves' word that he didn't even mean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     His name on the envelope seemed to call out to him, begging him to read it. He closed his eyes, his fingers twitching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He was afraid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Afraid of what was in that letter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Afraid that what was inside would tell him everything, everything he wanted and feared to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He silently picked the letter up, turning it around and breaking the seal before pulling out one single sheet of paper, hand-written with penmanship that conveyed care and certainty in the words. He closed his eyes again for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out before opening his eyes and reading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Dear Joshua,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My one regret is that all of this is being said in writing instead of face-to-face. But 42 years worth of bitterness will probably prevent that from ever happening, and my time is limited.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't blame you one bit for being angry with me, or for not thanking me. What I did to you was unforgivable, and not one day goes by that I wish it had succeeded…or if I had just been man enough to tell you everything and just leave. I was stupid to think that things could be forgiven so easily…on both instances.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you're reading this, you've probably figured out that I'm gone. Where I've gone…I'm not entirely sure. I've been there before, but it was long ago, and I don't know how I made it home. But I've gone back, and I'm staying.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Only a few days ago, I delved into something I shouldn't have, but I was shown grace and mercy and I've owed a debt ever since for it. Last night was the only time I could have called in my debt, and because of that, my departure had to be sped up a little.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I just hate that I had to do this without telling the lassies goodbye…but I couldn't handle another month of uncertainty and pain. I was already pushing my luck as it was.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Grooves, DJ, Joshua...please. If there is one thing I ask of you is that you don't shut yourself away in this studio with nothing but your movies for company. The lassies love you, Bow especially, and they'll need someone to help them through this. Reconnect with them. When all the movies are made and things get boring, they'll be there to always give you something new to experience.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sort of running out of things to write. Well, of any relevance, anyway. If I wanted to write down everything I ever wanted to say, I'd never leave this train. Just…I'm sorry. For everything. For not being a better brother, a better son, a better co-worker, a better man.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Goodbye, Grooves. Please, don't go looking for me. You should know by now that some mysteries aren't worth solving.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All my love,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Connor</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This might've been a little shorter than intended but hey</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tidying Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conductor completes his last few tasks before he leaves for Subcon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     <em>Conductor himself staying up late at night for no reason other than the fact that he was too used to his stressful life to just go to bed at a decent hour. It was no fun staring at a ceiling for hours on end, so he took to sneaking to the reception and sitting outside on a bench for the hours he normally spent working on movies and his train.</em></p><p>
  <em>      He normally avoided the outdoors at night. <span class="u"> Things </span>  crawled around at night; things that he didn't want in the studio. The only reason why he stepped outdoors at night was to check the wards around the property; there were only so many times he would wake up to some birds fooling around before he did something about it. </em>
</p><p>  <em>   He cracked open a bottle of beer and sipped it quietly, staring out at the pitch darkness of the night, hearing an oddity of things behind plants croon out, almost beckoning. He shuddered hard. He hated that sound. He hated the sensation it gave him; a pulling, yearning to answer that call. It was almost addictive, and he truly understood why his family became so obsessed with this place.</em></p><p>
  <em>      The bottle was empty in no time, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. The bottle seemed to serve as an anchor, a reminder to not answer that call. It seemed to work, anyhow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      But he knew it wouldn't work forever. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor took a deep breath and let it out, looking upward out at the sky. The stars were flickering brightly, illuminating out constellations he knew by heart by now. Nestled up high in the sky was a tiny sliver that remained in the moon. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It made his blood run cold; that sight <span class="u">always </span>chilled him inside. It always served as a warning, an omen he heeded religiously for these last few days. Despite of who the moon reminded him of. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      But now…it served as a reminder, the sliver of moon perfectly paralleling his current predicament. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      His time was running out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Normally, Conductor could easily hide the weariness that always hung about after his long days and late nights, but today, he just couldn't do it. When the first, barest hints of light began glowing from behind the horizon line in the east, he headed inside and went to bed, crashing out hard enough so that his owls tried to wake him, failed, and had to run back in a panic to get Grooves for fear of some nefariousness had occurred. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He barely remembered the conversation, but he was <span class="u"> sure </span> he managed to convey he was just tired and wanted to sleep in, and hoped that the swearing was just in his head and not out loud in case the girls had dropped by and were listening just outside the door. Not that it really mattered, he guessed. Either way, he was left alone again, and delved back into his dark, silent dreamland. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It was as solitary and eventful as laying down in the middle of a forest; peaceful, yet unnerving. Unnerving because of the omen. Of the reminder that his payment was close to being due. At least it was a gentle reminder…but he knew enough from his past to know that gentle reminders could quickly turn into something worse if payment wasn't delivered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It was around three in the afternoon by the time he woke up, and he felt oddly refreshed and not at all old-man achy. Ugh, sweet Moses, if a full REM sleep was the cure-all to his issues, he would have tried it <span class="u"> ages </span> ago. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He went into the breakroom and made up some coffee, looking up when Grooves came in from his set, muttering something as he wrote in a journal. Conductor swallowed hard, feeling both a lurching of anxiety and that beckoning. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Your payment is almost due. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      'I know, I know…' </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "…You want some?" he asked, getting Grooves' attention. Grooves looked up, noting the odd wake-up time of Conductor, but nodded. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Yes please," he replied. "I could use some." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor poured out two cups, feeling a tinge of bitterness that Grooves couldn't even say 'thank you' for <span class="u"> this </span> . He put the cups down on the table and sat down, sipping his quietly. Grooves did the same, his beak still buried in the journal. "…so where are the kids?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "….hm?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "The <span class="u"> kids </span> , Grooves," Conductor repeated. "Where are the lassies? I can at <span class="u">least</span> trust you to watch them for a few hours, right?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Grooves gave him an irritated look. "They're fine, Conductor," he replied. "They're out with their little friend—" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "The mustached one?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "—yes, her. You realize they're not going to visit <span class="u"> everyday </span> , right? I think they promised a day with their friend and they've gone out to spend some time with her, so there. You're welcome." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor's fingers flexed around the coffee cup, his jaw clenching tightly, displaying impressive self-control to prevent himself from letting loose a string of everything on his mind. He took a few sips of coffee to drown out those words, staring out the window. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The day was beautiful. He swore he felt a slight hint of coolness in the desert breeze that filtered in through the screen. It was almost mocking him. This place <span class="u"> always </span> seemed to mock him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "I'm going back on set," Grooves said, picking up his coffee cup and journal, standing up. Conductor felt the omen buzz like a wasp, and felt a surge of anxiety. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Grooves, stay," he said, his voice sounding slightly more panicked than he intended. It was enough to make Grooves pause and look up from his journal. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "…why?" he asked, frowning. "Conductor, I really do have a lot of work to do—" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Just…!" Conductor swallowed hard, his hands clutching his coffee cup so tightly he was afraid it would shatter. "…Ten minutes. Just give me ten minutes, okay?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Grooves' frown deepened, but he sat back down. "…Is everything alright?" he asked. "…you've…gone a little pale." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       <span class="u">Shit</span>. Conductor let out a heavy sigh, forcing his tensed shoulders to relax. "….I'm fine," he half-lied. "…just ten minutes." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Grooves sat back in his chair, looking his rival over critically. Tensed body, pale complexion, jittery tone…it seemed like symptoms of anxiety. But what would Conductor have to feel anxious about over five eventless minutes? In any case, if ten minutes would ease the anxiety, he could at least spare that. He sipped his coffee, opening his journal again, eyes flicking up slightly every so often, noting that Conductor did indeed seem to be calming down somewhat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor didn't feel calm on the inside. A thousand questions swum around in his head, a thousand more things to say…just to <span class="u"> talk </span> about. If that omen was calling, he didn't want it to call him with his end only half-done. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He could see the minutes ticking by on the clock, and knew ten minutes was all Grooves would spare him. His rival was generous, but there were still limits to acknowledge. He drained his cup and set it down before wringing his hands, the one true question on his mind being the one he <span class="u"> should </span> ask, but he was deathly afraid to. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Two minutes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He knew he'd never get his rival to sit with him like this again for the rest of his time here. And then… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "…Grooves," he finally said, his voice small but resolute. Grooves looked up, exasperation in his eyes, but a show of patience on his face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Yes?" he asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor weighed his words, wondered about the implications of saying them, but knowing he <span class="u"> had </span> to know. He forced his hands to unclench, letting out a calming sigh. "I need you to answer something for me," he continued. "And I need you to answer honestly. Don't sugarcoat it, don't…don't bullshit me to try to spare my feelings or whatever. Just be completely and utterly honest." He paused, forcing himself to say it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "…Will you ever truly forgive me? For everything. Put everything behind us, and forgive me?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      There was a deafening silence between them, but at least Conductor had Grooves' full attention. Conductor could practically see the cogs turn in Grooves' head as he mulled over the question, but he didn't have to wait long for his answer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "…no." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      To be honest, Conductor expected it. It still didn't ease the pain in his chest, feeling like an icicle had pierced his heart and was freezing his insides. He wanted to scream, cry, throw furniture around… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Instead, he nodded. "Thank you," he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out as he stood up. "Thank you for being honest with me." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Conductor—" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Grooves, I asked you to be honest," Conductor said. "And…I think I already knew the answer. It was just…something I had to know for <span class="u"> sure </span> ." He walked out of the breakroom and headed for the elevator, moving faster than necessary. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      "Conductor—!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He let the elevator doors shut to drown out Grooves'  words, pressing his back to the door once the elevator began to descend. He'd hoped…..he just thought if….. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Your payment is almost due. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor's body slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It was tonight, then. His debt would be paid in full tonight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He'd hoped he had more time, but… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with dry, silent sobbing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He managed to buck himself up in time for the kids to come by with their third friend. They'd had a great day out with Mustache Girl, and he couldn't be happier. He put on a good face for them, deciding to treat them with pizza for their dinner, and let Hat Kid splurge on the cheese sticks and desserts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Bow Kid looked suspiciously at him for spending so much money, but childish delight over pizza and desserts won out. Conductor knew it would, and he was grateful for it. He wanted his last night here to be a fond one, and even if it wasn't with Grooves or his real family, it could be for the greatest friends he'd ever had. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      After dinner, Hat Kid invited him onto her ship and offered to watch a movie there, since Conductor just happened to start being so nice. They then proceeded to spend half an hour debating and compromising once they were on the ship. Usually he suggested his own, but tonight he had let them decide the movie. Bow wanted a sci-fi movie, Hat wanted an action flick, and Mu just wanted something that wouldn't give her a migraine. They settled on a romcom, something Conductor knew Hat and Bow loved and Mu secretly enjoyed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The three crashed out before it ended, and Conductor quietly carried them to bed, setting two of the girls onto Hat Kid's mountain of pillows when he remembered that there was really only one bed on the ship. As he tucked them in, he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper, hating himself for leaving them like this. He'd leave a note—of <span class="u"> course </span> he would, he didn't want them going on a mad goose chase that would never conclude—but it didn't seem enough . </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Not enough time. Not enough consideration. Not enough done that he <span class="u"> wanted </span> to achieve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He took of Bow Kid's headband and Hat Kid's hat, setting them on the table next to the bed, watching them sleep peacefully for a few moments longer. He spotted a small journal on the table by the door, pausing before picking it up and jotting something down on a blank page before slipping back to the studio to tidy up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He was stalling; he knew he was. He <span class="u"> was </span> going to do it, but just to stay in this place for awhile longer, take in every familiar detail, memorize every creaky floorboard and crack in the wall. He never wanted to forget. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He finished tidying and walked into his office, sitting down at the desk with a sigh before pulling a drawer that held his hard liquor stash and pouring himself a tumbler. Just one glass and nothing more. He just needed a little extra liquid courage, that was all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      After sitting in silence, he opened a notebook, picked up a pen, and began to write. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor could have easily left through the back doors -it was quicker-, but he took the front doors just to look at Grooves' side one more time. Part of him wanted to march over, into the penguin's office, and beg his rival for reconciliation…but he knew it was fruitless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      The hurt was too deep, with 42 odd years' worth of contempt irreparably cracking the foundation that was their relationship. No, it was best to just…get this over with. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He kissed his fingers and pressed them to the doors of Grooves' side, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, picking up his cane -which he never used- and walking out of the studio, heading toward the forest just as the clocks in the building struck midnight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      Conductor was dressed up to the nines in the nicest of his conductor suits, paired nicely with his expensive purple necktie and gold watch. He even wore his cap. It was completely unnecessary, but he wanted to look his best for paying his dues, because <span class="u"> this </span> was who he was. Every piece he wore, every accessory flaunted, was all him, ingrained with 42 years' worth of blood, sweat, and tears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      It gave him confidence to walk straight to Subcon, even though he knew not one creature in there would dare harm him. Not now. Not when he had business with something far greater than them, far older. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He walked for an hour, the energy he woke up with thrumming stronger. Had he not checked the mirror before leaving the studio, he would swear he felt like it was just 8 days ago again. Not an ache in his legs or back, no shortness of breath from walking for so long. He wasn't surprised; as uncharacteristically <span class="u"> alive </span> as the forest was, he knew it had plenty of energy to spare for him to make this journey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      At last, a vibration of energy in the air that he could feel in every molecule of his being let him know he'd arrived. He stopped, standing just outside the border of Subcon, resting his hands on his cane quietly. There was a stillness in the air, like time itself was standing still, just for him. Just for <span class="u"> this </span> . </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      He felt his breath catch in his throat when he felt something akin to static without the sharp surprise of shock run over his body. Conductor swallowed hard, hands tightening around the curve of his cane. Conductor straightened his back, gripping his cane tightly in one hand. This was it. He suddenly dropped the cane where he stood, watching it fall bluntly onto the dead grass. If he was just going to hold onto it to channel his anxiety, he might as well leave it here.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With that his heart heavy and mind messy, Connor Forbush stepped into the forest. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm writing this faster than I usually write things and it's scaring me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Burning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grooves and the kids try to cope and heal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyheyhey this chapter has references to my other work "Shed Feathers and Tears" so unless you want even more mystery, go ahead and read that first</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     DJ Grooves stared blankly out at the forest from the back porch, looking like a lost child. In his hand was the letter Conductor had left him, crumpled from being clenched in his hands, the ink smeared slightly. It may have been tears, but Grooves didn't remember crying. He didn't remember much of anything after finishing the lines, </span>
  <em>
    <span>All my love, Connor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     He only recalled bits and pieces of the past however-long. Leaving the office. Hat Kid asking what was wrong. He thought he replied something along the lines of 'he's gone and he's not coming back'.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     A bit gauche in hindsight; he'd upset the kids with that. Hat Kid demanded more information while Bow just curled up on herself and delved into her own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Everything blurred after that. He was sure he'd been sitting outside since, inwardly hoping Conductor would come back if he did so. His gut, wrenched with pain and guilt, also growled with hunger, his mouth dry with thirst. Still, he couldn't bring himself to move from where he sat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     A faint voice, tucked back in his mind and suffocating in the pain, was telling him he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get up. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to go inside. There were young ones who needed him. He had a responsibility to them. He couldn't dwell on that voice for long before it was smothered up in the thick numbness that enveloped him from the inside out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He became aware that the sun was setting, the darkness of the air settling for a few moments before the outdoor lights clicked on. The bulbs were faded, and the light wasn't much, but it was enough to get his attention somewhat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The doors opened and the kids stepped out. Bow Kid stood in the door frame, her chin tucked into her collar, rubbing her arms quietly as though she was feeling the same cold emptiness that he was. Hat Kid was carrying a sandwich and a can of soda, both of which were sat down on the bench next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves felt a touch moved by the gesture, but he still couldn't bring himself to acknowledge it properly. He couldn't bear to eat or drink anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The kids stood quietly, as though waiting for some sign that he was still…well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The wait was long and tense, and finally, after the sun had set completely, Hat Kid murmured a soft 'goodnight, DJ' before heading inside with her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     That beloved term of endearment that was normally used just by Conductor. Grooves let out a shaky breath, feeling his eyes well up slightly, but still his body refused to move, no matter how much his mind fought to do so. He couldn't…he just…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     …he couldn't do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He couldn't do anything except ache for his rival, and wallow in that empty pain left inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Out of the stillness of the forest, a wind picked up, rattling the leaves of the trees. It was a sound that made a shiver run up Grooves' spine, his fingers loosening just enough for the letter clenched in his hand to almost flutter free. His hands snapped up and caught it before it could blow away, and out of the crumpled parts came a line written in one of the only smooth sections left.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>The kids love you—they'll need someone to help them through this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves stared at those words, that little voice shouting stronger through the numbness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They love you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They need you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They need </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves' hands shook, his muscles shifting as he tried to force himself to stand up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They love you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Connor…I need you…!'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Another soft breeze whispered over the trees and up to the studio, brushing across Grooves' face, and the penguin almost felt his heart stop when he caught a peculiar scent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Pine oil and leather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Just like the scent that still sat in Conductor's office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves is on his feet in a flash, looking around wildly for </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> sign of his rival, but there was none. The scent, as quick as it came, was gone, like a fleeting memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     No…like a reminder.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'The kids love you—they'll need someone.'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves' eyes trailed to the food and drink Hat Kid had brought him, and felt reality crash into him hard. Here he was, unresponsive and useless, leaving two grieving, confused children to fend for themselves and still take time to take care of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He bolted inside the house, looking around wildly for the kids before hearing them in one of Conductor's old sets. He ran in and saw them squished together in Conductor's director chair, staring blankly at the floor as the occasionally mumbled to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid raised her head when she saw Grooves run in, looking surprised but understandably apprehensive. Bow Kid wiped at her eyes, tugging her collar down from her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…Mr. Grooves?" she queried softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     That was all it took for Grooves to break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He rushed up and knelt down on the ground in front of the chair, scooping the kids up and hugging them close, his body shaking from the sobs that were starting to break away in his chest. Bow Kid seemed to understand right away, hugging him back tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. Hat Kid caught on soon after, the strong façade she put on for Bow Kid's sake cracking as he clutched his remaining bird friend's jacket like he was afraid </span>
  <em>
    <span>he'd</span>
  </em>
  <span> vanish too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Grooves tightened his arms around the two, unable to form words of comfort or apology for all of this. Because of him, he no longer had a </span>
  <span>rival</span>
  <span> co-director, and the kids were down to one less friend as well. And he knew he was a shoddy stand-in for Conductor. His old friend loved these kids more than life itself; loved </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> more than life itself. What could he say to make Conductor's absence more bearable?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     So he said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He just held the twins tightly, not letting go even when they cried themselves to sleep. He just settled back on the floor and stared up at the ceiling, as though it would give him the answers to all the questions he had. Of course, it gave nothing back but silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And so he fell asleep too, making a promise to be a better man in the morning, for the kids. And for Conductor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Bow Kid worked with a strong conviction to keep the spirits up with her two friends, and she was happy when her infectious positivity seemed to rub off on them somewhat. Hat Kid started smiling more, and Grooves spent less time locking himself in the studio, opting instead to stay topside and learn how to function like a normal person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     …Bow's words, not his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     If anything, his skills with kids improved, and he began getting caught up on everything about the two darlings. They had also spent more and more time at the studio, wanting to give Grooves some company. He took the kids out into the town for a day and Bow insisted on picking up a few books for him while Hat pointed out a few newer pieces of technology that could be of interest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The only uncomfortable part of the outing was being noticed by fans several times and constantly being asked about the state of his rivalry with Conductor, but luckily, nobody went too in-depth with the conversations. Still, it suddenly hit him while he was in the bookstore that this was going to be a permanent thing, being asked about Conductor even if he told them what had happened. The title of The Conductor being handed back and forth as more of the name of an object rather than an identity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It was a sobering thought. Grooves now faced with the reality of having to live in his former rival's shadow, but not in the way it had always been. Conductor had been a very well-known person, of course. Not always well-liked during his worst, but well-received during his best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Among the people of Bird's Nest , it was the younger half that seemed to like Conductor the best. After Hat Kid came back with her friends one day, she and Mu stuck around for a bit while he and Bow chatted about the whole movie production thing. He went back and saw Conductor and the girls having fun playing poker over fake prop gold—whatever was left of it that Conductor hadn't blown up, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He had admittedly been curious enough by the sight to observe for a little, seeing how comfortable the kids were joking around with him, stealing some of his gold pieces when he wasn't looking, and snitching some of his snacks that he kept away from them to avoid sugar-crazy kids. Conductor in turn gave Mu a punching tip, and told Hat how to hide her tell before purposely throwing his hand so she could win the round.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves absently wondered how Conductor was having been a father. He was certainly much better with kids than his own father was, from what Conductor had told Grooves. He almost started a thought about why Conductor didn't manage to maintain his marriage and settle down before shutting himself up in the studio. Conductor was single-mindedly focused on working, so maybe that could be why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He checked to make sure the kids were busy—Bow Kid was flipping through a knitting pattern magazine and Hat Kid was eyeballs-deep in the science section of the bookstore—before hurrying to the bathroom and locking himself in, forcing himself to take several deep, calming breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It served him right, finally taking consideration for his former rival and all that he did and sacrificed, only when he was gone. Being so out of touch with human—or even other sentient empathetic—interaction for so long and focusing primarily on his scientific pursuits only made things worse in dealing with his own shortcomings and how to react to having his paradigms shattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Before, it was so easy. Feel nothing, react coldly, bury emotions. Be like </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. God, it was no wonder Conductor sometimes looked apprehensive about being around him before he vanished…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Now, all he could do was cry in reaction to anything upsetting. There was no use trying to close the floodgates when the water's already gushing through and never stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     How Conductor could have all those emotions and still control them and focus on being positive for the kids' sakes, he'll never know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves jumped when he heard a soft knocking on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Grooves?" Hat Kid's voice murmured through. "…Do you need to go home now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves read through those lines easily; Hat knew he was upset, and was giving him an out. He wiped his face, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses back on. "I'm…I'm fine, Hattie," he replied, then swallowed hard, forcing his voice to remain somewhat upbeat. "Did you and Bow find anything you liked?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…nothing worth buying," Hat replied. "We can go now." </span>
  <em>
    <span>'We won't make you stay if you need to go home.'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves sighed, opening the door, seeing Hat Kid standing there quietly, looking worried. He gave the girl a brave smile before heading out with her. Bow Kid hurried up, having abandoned the small stack of magazines and pattern books she had been carrying, slipping her hand into his comfortingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     As he walked the kids out of the store, he inwardly marveled at how empathetic the two were. All day, though they'd been out and about, they seemed to know exactly when he needed to leave, when he needed a distraction, and when it was okay to let him converse. He felt a touch guilty that even now that he was taking up the caregiver mantle, they were still taking care of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He went home in silence, feeling drained from the day, wondering how he was going to be able to keep up appearances in the future to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid crept through the hall quietly, skipping all the creaky steps to avoid waking her friend up. Bow Kid had become hyper-vigilant and almost paranoid at night recently, and she was just lucky that years of nights over taught her how to creep out of bed without disturbing her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She had been awake for the past two hours, staring pointlessly at the ceiling, mulling over the outing earlier. It seemed to be going well, until she and Bow looked up to see Grooves practically sprinting for the bathroom. They gave him about five minutes before she headed on to make sure he was alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Of course he wasn't alright. He hadn't been alright since the day they found out Conductor was gone. Sure, he'd snapped out of whatever overly-optimistic spell was on him, but Hat could tell he was hiding a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Oh, how badly she wanted to take Bow and Grooves around the planet and ask everyone if they had seen Conductor, there had to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>who knew where he went…but Conductor had said not to look for him. Conductor was right about those two; they obsessed too much over things, and would waste their lives trying to change something that couldn't be changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid rubbed her arms quietly, mulling over the experience, already missing the safe warmth of Conductor's presence. She hoped a cup of hot cocoa would at least somewhat help. She walked into the kitchen and rummaged around for a clean cup and a saucepan, pausing before she put it on the stove when she thought of the studio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Settling the pan down quietly, she made her way down to the studio, seeing a door slightly ajar and a dim, flickering light dancing around the edges of the door in the rest of the dark studio. She crept up to the door, peeking in through the crack in the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves was sitting on the floor with a journal open in front of him, methodically tearing out pages and burning them with a match on the barren floor of the room. Tear tracks on his face were illuminated by the fires he set, watching each page turn to ashes before tearing out the next in line. The journal</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid was suddenly reminded of what she heard about that journal. It was just Conductor's personal thing that he wrote unspeakable things in. He and Grooves had gotten into an argument and Conductor  had threatened to burn the journal…is that why Grooves was doing it? Because it's what Conductor would have done? She bit her lip hard, feeling tears of her own well up in her eyes, hating seeing the penguin crying. He looked like it was physically hurting to tear out the pages and burn them…like he was purposely torturing himself.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn't what Conductor would want.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat wiped her eyes, pushing the door open, the loud creek making Grooves jump and drop the burning page he had started, where it finished smoldering on the floor before going out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "D…Darling…" Grooves stammered, his hands twitching like he didn't know whether he wanted to hide the evidence of what he was doing or wipe his face first. Hat Kid gave him a third option, walking over and hugging his neck tightly, giving an open invitation to hug her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He did so, feeling a rush of shame and embarrassment rise up at having been caught. "I…I was…" </span>
  <em>
    <span>Indulging in self-flagellation as some demented form of penance for my sins.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid just hugged him tighter. "…you don't have to," she said softly. "…Please don't do this to yourself, Grooves…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves tightened his arms around her, swallowing hard. "…yes…I have to…" he replied thickly. "…if…I burn it, I wont have anything tempting me ever again…it wont have that power over me anymore…" God, why was he saying these things?! He didn't need to be burdening a child with those morbid existential musings…!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid didn't seem to care about the morbidity of it all. She let go of his neck and settled in his lap, picking up what remained of the torn journal, closing it quietly. "…there's nothing wrong with the journal," she said, leaning back against his chest. Yeah, it radiated every negative emotion Conductor had ever expressed, but in the end, it may be the last thing left of the owl. "The problem is getting too big for your britches with stuff you don't understand."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves blinked, having not expected that response. Quite a mature statement to make, to be honest. "Er…I wasn't…I was…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid sighed quietly. "…there's no shame in admitting you're in over your head," she said, running her hand over the journal's cover. "…Some mysteries aren't worth solving…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves felt his hand instinctively go to his pocket, where Conductor's last letter to him was folded and tucked away, wondering how in the world she would know the last line of that letter. He hadn't shared the letter with the kids, feeling childishly selfish in wanting to keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> to himself…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     But still, what were the odds that she'd say the same thing Conductor would?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid tipped her head back to look at him. "You like to avoid being negative," she said matter-of-factly. "There's nothing wrong with that. Kinda like with anything else, it can get dangerous…but…when something </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it's too much for you to deal with…then maybe you shouldn't dig in so deep you can't get out." She lowered her head, looking contemplatively sad. "…I don't wanna lose you too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves' arms tightened around her before he even knew what he was doing, hugging her to him. "…It…wont be like that," he replied firmly, though his voice shook slightly. "…not anymore…I promise." He stared at the insignia lock on the cover of the journal, feeling a soft flicker of regret at burning some of the pages, but at least not the overwhelming covetous panic at the sight of Conductor about to burn it. He supposed it was a normal reaction; he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> spent so much time searching through this place, put so much of his heart and soul into his work…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid opened the journal again, flipping back to the pages with red, grimacing. "…Grooves? We can burn </span>
  <em>
    <span>these</span>
  </em>
  <span> pages. There's </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>good about them and they deserve to be burned to the ground." There was a haunted hardness to her voice that would make men of low constitution shudder with terror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves nodded. "Agreed," he said, sounding just as haunted, watching with not an ounce of regret this time as Hat Kid tore the blood-covered pages out, settling back as they watched those pages burn. "…Hattie? I know you must have been told this so many times already, but I just need to say… you're a good person."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid smiled, leaning back against him tiredly. "…so are you," she replied, yawning. "…a couple of mistakes don't make you a bad person, as long as you're sorry for 'em." She closed her eyes, snuggling into his jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves sat in silence, feeling…</span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn't know if it was sadness or happiness or what, but all he could do was sit there and watch the smoke from the burning pages sift in the air, listen to Hat Kid's quiet sleep breathing, and feel like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he'd been forgiven for something.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think this is the longest thing I've written now with this 4th chapter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. New Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Right as they get used to his absence, Grooves and the kids find some things about Conductor</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>    Grooves was in his office, pulling out every journal and paper he kept down there from his time owning the studio with Conductor, looking through them fervently in the hopes of finding a clue as to where his fellow director had gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Nothing like Conductor had subtly described was familiar to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I've been there before, but it was long ago, and I don't know how I made it home'.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There were no open dimensional time vortexes or whatever they were anywhere, according to Hat Kid. There wasn't anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>mystical </span>
  </em>
  <span>that could've gotten Conductor.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Only a few days ago, I delved into something I shouldn't have, but I was shown grace and mercy and I've owed a debt ever since for it'.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That first part was chillingly familiar. He too had poked around with something he shouldn't have, and because of it, he doomed someone he loved. For a brief time, he feared that </span>
  <em>
    <span>that Snatche</span>
  </em>
  <span>r had gotten a hold of Conductor days ago, but then he reread the second half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     'Grace' and 'mercy' were two words that were foreign to Snatcher. And he didn't call in 'debts', he called in 'deals'. Not once in the time Grooves knew Snatcher, did he know Snatcher to swap those words around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     So that left Grooves back at square one, every time.</span>
</p><p><span>     Grooves leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. </span><em><span>Think, Joshua, think.</span></em> <em><span>Read between the lines.</span></em></p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Been there before'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Don't know how I made it home'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Delved into something I shouldn't have'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Shown grace and mercy'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Owed a debt'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Few days ago'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Few days ago.'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Few days ago'.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     That one bit kept gnawing at his brain. Days ago…what happened the last few days?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Well, 8 days ago, he'd sent for Conductor. Conductor listened for a little, just before that journal was brought up. They had a fight. Conductor stormed off on the verge of a breakdown. But what then?</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Don't be a dunce, Joshua!'</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind barked at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Conductor told you himself, the day right after!'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"You want to know so badly? Fine! I left the studio! Went out and did what I needed to."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     "Nothing special, peck neck. Went for a walk. Had a drink. Smoked a little. Whatever it took to get away from </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><span class="u">you</span>.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     And then Hattie's input came in, though it was nothing about that day: </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Conductor's been a lot nicer to you this past week. You think he's sick?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> She giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Pieces were there….</span>
  <em>
    <span>fill them in, Josh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     8 days ago, Conductor was trying to cool off from the argument. Something happened. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Big enough to warrant a literal life debt. Conductor was shown grace and mercy…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     …in order to make things </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually okay</span>
  </em>
  <span> between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It took 8 days to set things straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      And now Conductor's debt was called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves leaned over his desk, burying his face in his hands. Those 8 days, Conductor had that debt hanging over his head, but still he worked to get things settled between them two. And the last thing he did was tell Conductor he couldn't forgive him for the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His former co-director literally sold his life away for more time with him…and he told him he couldn't forgive him.</span>
</p><p><span>     Grooves shoved back from his desk, grabbing the nearest item and hurling it against the wall. </span><b><em>Stupid!</em></b> <b><em>He was so god damn stupid!</em></b><span> He grabbed a handful of papers and tore them in half, throwing them away from him. </span><b><em>His pride hurt his closest friend in the last hours he was in this plane of existence! He couldn't even have said </em></b><b><em>'sorry'</em></b><b><em>!</em></b></p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"…you really aren't going to talk about this, are you?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves let out a self-disgusted snarl, grabbing a random poster on the wall he'd been neglecting to get rid of and tearing it down, shattering whatever crystals decorated the office, ripping more papers, wishing more than anything he had a lighter so he could torch this whole goddamn room. His own pride and hubris caused </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Letting Conductor throw himself around in his depressive state, and then turning away when he reached out to him —for </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>—for help.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“You are honestly SO pecking selfish! It makes me SICK!”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <span>     Not bothering to get in touch with the owl, even when Conductor was right in the same room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Only thinking to reach out when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Telling him he was selfish for being depressed not 5 minutes after trying to console him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Fighting him, branding him, practically calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>worthless</span>
  </em>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Oh god.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Conductor was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>care more about image than actual being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves looked down at his shaking hands before surveying the wreckage around him, a messy reminder of what he had put first in his life. The arrogance that made him believe instantly that he would be happy with just his movies; the arrogance that cost him a happy life with someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The arrogance that cost him Conductor…now </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And this time, it was permanent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves walked over to the desk, picking up the journal that had lived through all the years of Conductor's pain and holding it in his hands. He remembered handing it to Conductor, telling him to explain the contents of it and to get rid of said contents, and then within the same minute fighting to get it away from the owl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     If he had just let Conductor burn it…maybe this all would've been better. If he hadn't been so difficult, this wouldn't have happened. But with memories of the other night with Hattie, there was no doing that again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     A sudden opening of the door snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up in time to see the door to his office open and Bow Kid rush in, looking both excited and frightened. "Darling, what is it?" he asked, hoping the little girl wouldn't ask about the wrecked room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Bow paid the mess no mind, holding up a little journal that was decorated with different stickers of sorts. "Mr. Grooves, I found something weird," she said, her voice shaking. "I…I was just reading through my journal, just to take my mind off of things…" Her hands shook as she opened the journal and flipped the pages over near the back of the book, to where a previously-empty page now had writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves' heart leapt to his throat when he recognized the writing as the same in Conductor's letter to him. He took the journal and pulled it closer to read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The message was short, but written thickly, with clear indication that it should be heeded:</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>DO NOT EVER GO INTO SUBCON DURING THE NEW MOON</b>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid quietly walked through the forest, for once not taking notice of any of the creatures—normal and otherwise—that went about their business around her. She couldn't see the joy in much of anything, could no longer see the light and cuteness of what was around her anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The past couple of days had been so hard, and she couldn't understand much of anything. All she knew was, one of her closest friends was gone, and he wasn't coming back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She didn't know why he was gone. But from what she gathered, it had to do with some kind of magic in Subcon. It had to be. She'd had her suspicions for a long time, but she couldn't get herself to tell Bow or Grooves that she was going. Sometimes, there was no rhyme or reason to what went on in Subcon Forest. Sometimes ghosts popped up to kidnap people, sometimes statues needed a punch in the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid loved Subcon, for all its weirdness and company…but now she began to hate it. This place took her Conductor away from her, and she didn't know if she would ever see him again, let alone know whatever happened to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She sat down on a rock, tugging the collar of her cape up over the lower half of her face before pulling her arms through her sleeves and hugging herself. It wasn't fair. Why did Conductor have to leave? Why did Subcon have to take him </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Before summer was even over, before her and Bow even had to leave for home again, without a goodbye? Whoever took him was cruel and mean, and she could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> them!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Tears welled up in her eyes and she nudged the collar up higher to soak them up. She didn't want to cry. Grooves couldn't stand it when she cried. The last time she even looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span> to crying, he looked close to going all zombie-smasher on someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid managed to get a hold on her emotions, and just sat in silence. The rock became uncomfortable, so she found a nice patch of grass under a tree, relaxing back and closing her eyes, allowing herself to relive the best parts of the summer with Conductor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She swore it was just for a few minutes, but a cool breeze of air and the rustling of leaves woke Hat Kid up to a heavy dusk that cast even darker shadows everywhere around her. She scrambled to her feet, pushing her arms back through her sleeves, chewing her lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The forest never really scared her before. Even after the whole contractual thing, she never really had a reason to fear this place. But she always had company then. She was never alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     In fact, she'd never felt more alone than she did now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid rubbed her arms, hurrying along the path as the air grew darker and colder. There was an instinctive push in the back of her mind that was telling her that being out here alone after dark was </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not the normal 'wolves might eat you' bad, but the 'Subcon Forest unseen dangers' bad. It made her hair stand on end, made her feel like eyes were watching her from every angle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The sound of a twig snapping behind her made her break into a run without looking back. She didn't care if it was a bushcat or something else that might have been harmless to her; she just needed to get out of there </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It took her just a minute of running to realize, with a dawning horror, that she had no idea where she was running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     There was no discernible path in front of her, and nothing looked familiar. She skidded to a halt, looking around wildly, hearing </span>
  <em>
    <span>things</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the woods chitter and howl around her like a tattletale beacon to where she was. Tears prickled at her eyes, and she reached up to wipe them away.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>SNAP</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid froze, feeling the air turn colder, actually seeing her breath fog in front of her as she heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the woods in front of her step closer. Faintly, she could make out two faint pinprick glows of light high up on the ground…it had to have been seven or eight feet up. As they got closer, Hat Kid felt the air grow colder, and she took a few steps back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> advanced closer, and Hat Kid began smelling something horrible, similar to the dead animal she and Bow saw on the side of the road a few weeks back, only…</span>
  <em>
    <span>fresher</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was horrible, and it made her feel sick. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> began to take shape from the darkness, its silhouette darker than even the dark woods. It was thick in the middle, but spindly in the limbs, and on its head was a pair of horns that resembled tree branches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It stepped closer, and Hat Kid stepped backwards, her breath coming out in quicker, heavier puffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…h-help…." she squeaked, her body trembling from the cold and the terror. "…B-Bow….Grooves….help…!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> began stepping slightly faster, and now Hat Kid could hear soft, high-pitched growls coming from it. She stumbled back, not knowing if she should keep going backwards or risk turning around to run. She didn't want to take her eyes off of it, not for a second. But it was getting closer, and faster, and pushing her further back into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Help…" she gasped, backing up faster. "Help….please….help…!" Her side bumped into the edge of a tree, her heel almost catching on a root. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> picked up its pace, and Hat Kid couldn't go backwards any faster. She turned and began to run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Her insides felt like ice, and her breath was coming out more labored, making it hard for her to breathe. She could hear the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep up a chasing, yet leisure pace behind her, like it was chasing her just enough for her to be ahead, but so she'd tire out faster. Like a sick game of tag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Help…!" she wailed out, forcing her legs to sprint faster. "Help! B-Bow! Grooves!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The rotten scent of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>was giving off was almost choking her; she could hear high, ragged breaths behind her. She swore the breaths sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That thought made her waste breath on a choked sob, her eyes blurring with tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Momentarily blinded by the blurring, she didn't see the rock in her path until she was tripping over it, and she pitched forward, her head smashing against a fallen tree branch. While not knocked unconscious, she was still knocked senseless, the world going both white and black, hearing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>getting closer, the stench growing fouler and heavier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     In a daze, she turned her head, her blurry vision seeing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> step close to her, and with some sense she had to spare, she was grateful she wasn't able to see clearly. Those glowing, dead eyes staring down at her were nightmarish enough, and she didn't need the rest of the picture haunting her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Her hands clutched at the dirt and leaves on the ground, as though not knowing what to do with themselves. She didn't have the sense to crawl away or sit herself up or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Terror gripped at her heart, but her head was still trying to catch up. There was just a throbbing pain that pulsed from the back of her head to her eyes, rendering her motor functions useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     All she could do was lie there, tears leaking out of her eyes as she silently begged for someone to help her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>'Conductor…I wish you were here.'</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Her eyes fluttered halfway shut, just before the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>suddenly lifted its head and began backtracking like a terrified child caught getting into something it shouldn't, before turning tail and bolting into the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     On her other side, Hat Kid heard soft, almost ghostlike footsteps approach, and the coldness in the air began to warm up until she felt like she was relaxing back in the warm sunshine. Instead of terror, she began to feel…comfort. Like the air was giving her a gentle hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     As her eyes fluttered again, feeling the urge to take a nap in the warm sunlight, she could smell something familiar replacing that horrible death stench….pine oil and leather. She knew that scent, she thought to herself. She'd know it anywhere now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She felt something kneel down next to her and tuck strong, gentle hands under her body before lifting her up. It was the oddest experience; it was like being lifted into air, with the strength of the hands being just a sensation instead of reality. But the warmth and comfort…</span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>were real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid leaned her head to the side, feeling it rest against a firm chest, and a small smile twitched at her lips. The familiar hold, the familiar smell, the familiar feeling of being so fully protected…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Her body relaxed as she was carried off slowly through the forest, her eyes opening a little wider, taking in the sight of a very dark purple tie, almost black. A strong jaw…but facial features that seemed blurred, like they were deciding what form to take and couldn't settle. She didn't need to see to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She already knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And he'd come for her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uh oh things are getting spicy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Her Conductor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hat Kid wakes up</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     Hat Kid regained consciousness, becoming aware that she was settled and something was touching the wound on her head where she'd fallen. It was warm, with a tingling sensation, almost like the faintest of rain drizzles on her forehead. She wrinkled her nose, her lips twitching; it sort of tickled.</p><p>     The headache from the blow faded gently, and she began to remember how she got hurt in the first place.</p><p>     Falling asleep in the forest.</p><p>     The forest getting dark.</p><p>     That…<em> thing </em>chasing her.</p><p>     Being saved.</p><p>     <em> 'Conductor…' </em></p><p>     The smell of pine oil and leather made itself known, and Hat Kid instinctively curled up tighter against the warmth that was holding her. She wanted so badly for this to be real, for it to not be a dream, or a mild hallucination of her intense wishing…</p><p>     Arms tightened around her, as though assuaging her sad thoughts, and she clenched her fingers into an article of clothing that felt familiar, but only half-there, like a vivid memory. She wanted so badly to open her eyes to see if it was true, but was so scared that if she did, it really <em> would </em> be just another dream, another depressing, sad let-down…</p><p>     "Please be real…" she whispered, sniffling softly. "Please be real…I can't take another dream, Conductor…they're so real…"</p><p>     There was no answer, but Hat Kid felt a hand pet her head in reply, felt that sunshiny warmth comfort her trembling. Hat Kid took a deep, shaky breath and opened her eyes.</p><p>     And saw her Conductor smiling sadly back at her.</p><p>     All of Hat Kid's normal emotional responses—jumping, screaming, laughing—were absent, and all she could do was cry. It wasn't a dream. It was <em> real </em> . Her Conductor was <em> here </em>, holding her, taking care of her…!</p><p>     She buried her face into his jacket, her body shaking with joy and quiet hysteria, feeling the owl pet her hair comfortingly, letting her cry it out. Soon, she managed to get a strong enough hold on her emotions to wipe her eyes and look up at him again.</p><p>     It <em> was </em> him. She <em> knew </em> it was. But there were differences that she hadn't noticed before.</p><p>     First and most noticeable was that his body, while it <em> felt </em> solid, it didn't <em> look </em> it. His features were detailed out in a soft light, but everything between was almost transparent. Odder still was his face; the features remained the same, but the harder Hat Kid stared, the more she saw his face seemed to be rapidly changing in age, from young to old, and would be easy to miss at a first glance.</p><p>     But the most noticeable difference was his eyes.</p><p>     They were visible now, and instead of the heterochromic blue and brown Hat Kid remembered, they were the darkest purple-blue of the night sky with slivers of white-gold around the edges of the irises, like thin crescent moons. On impulse, Hat Kid glanced up at the sky, seeing an identical sliver of moon in the sky.</p><p>     Her heart sank. This <em> had </em> to be a dream…or at very least, the stories of Subcon beasts whisking children off in the dark were true. If the latter was true, then it was cruel to take the form of her Conductor to lead her into a false sense of security.</p><p>     <b>You really need to curb your imagination, lassie.</b></p><p>     Hat Kid jumped when she heard Conductor's voice in her head, looking up to see him giving her an amused, yet slightly sad look. Her hands prodded lightly at her head; that had been <em> weird </em>. How had he—?</p><p>     <b>It's complicated, Hattie. Much more than I could ever tell you in a hundred years.</b> His expression became morose, and Hat Kid felt the urge to hug him until he didn't look so sad. But was he really…?</p><p>     <b>As close as I possibly can be,</b> he put in quietly. <b>I'm not a malevolent forest spirit, or a trickster.</b></p><p>     Hat Kid nibbled her lip, her hands wringing into her cape. "…but…you're no bird," she mumbled quietly. "…Conductor is a bird." She heard him give a mental sigh in her mind.</p><p>     <b>Conductor </b> <b> <em>was </em> </b> <b>a bird, lassie,</b> he replied. <b> What I am now…it's…difficult to explain.</b> He walked in silence, his pace slow and deliberate, Hat Kid noticed, like he was concentrating just to keep moving forward. <b>The closest I can explain is…that space between dreaming and waking up? When you can feel your bed beneath you, but still see your dreams in front of you. An…abstract construct of yourself, in that state, but permanently.</b></p><p>     He wasn't kidding. That <em> did </em>sound complicated. Hat Kid looked up at his face again, taking in the familiar expressions despite the different ages, feeling her body curl up again. "…why are you like this?" she asked softly.</p><p>     He remained silent for a long while.</p><p>     <b>I owed a debt to a part of what I am now, </b>he finally said. <b>Those who come here during the new moon are obligated to…stay.</b> His hold on her tightened. <b>That creature that went after you used to be normal…unfortunately, he was filth in his mortal life. It only worsened after.</b></p><p>     Hat Kid shivered at the thought of her Conductor becoming anything like that <em> thing </em>.</p><p><b>     I have no intention of becoming like it, lassie,</b> he said comfortingly. <b> I honestly didn't know what I would be like. This…is new to me. It's taking a lot of willpower just to keep this solid form.</b></p><p>Oh. That would explain why he was walking so slowly. Hat Kid suddenly felt bad. "…does it hurt?" she asked, prodding at his chest with her hand. "…being like this?"</p><p>     <b>No,</b> he replied. <b>It doesn't hurt. To be honest, it's more like trying to stay awake when you're exhausted. Luckily, I've had 40 years to perfect ignoring tiredness by working in that studio during the night hours.</b> He smiled down at her. <b>Don't feel bad, Hattie. I just want to get you home safely.</b></p><p>     "…Can you come home now?" Hat Kid asked, her voice hopeful. "I mean…since you're like this…?" Her voice trailed off at the look of melancholy that came over his face.</p><p>     <b>I'm sorry, lass,</b> he said softly. <b>But I can't leave the forest. Ever. I can only take you as far as the border before I have to let you go.</b></p><p>     Hat Kid felt tears well up, her desperation grasping at straws. "B-but I can visit you, right?" she asked. "And…and Bow and Grooves…they…they miss you too….we miss you so much!" She leaned her head against his shoulder, her tears sifting into his semi-corporeal form.</p><p>     He was silent, not even his footfalls making any sound, as he weighed his words carefully. <b>Hattie…it's for the absolute best that you…try not to cling to finding me,</b> he said delicately. <b> I technically don't exist in your world anymore, lassie…and I would beg you to please not follow where I go.</b> His expression became more morose.</p><p>     <b>Not to mention, your friend and Grooves...you know them, Hattie. They would waste the rest of their lives to try to bring me back, and I don't want that for them. I know </b> <b> <em>you</em> </b> <b> don't want that for them. And I don't want that for </b> <b> <em>you</em> </b> <b>.</b></p><p>     Hat Kid let out a soft, pathetic wail into his shoulder, knowing he was completely right. Her two friends' obsession with keeping people close was already too deep to be considered anywhere <em> near </em> healthy…she could already imagine Bow and Grooves working themselves to death trying to find a way to change what couldn't be changed, delving deeper into things they shouldn't, wasting year after year on the impossible…</p><p>     "It's not fair!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "It's not fair! Whoever wrote those rules are dumb, and need a good kick in the—"</p><p>     <b>I know,</b> he said, hugging her tightly, petting her head. <b>I know how unfair it is, lass…but as unfair as it is, I was still given lenience, and allowed time to set things straight with Grooves so I didn't have to leave things between us messy. I came back here willingly, sweetie. I followed through with dignity, and I intend to continue this with dignity.</b> He kissed her head softly, smiling.</p><p>     <b>Even when you can't see me, I'll still be watching over you. I'll be watching Bow, and Grooves too. I'll never let anything hurt you when you're on this planet.</b> He leaned back, giving her a mischievous look. <b>But that doesn't mean you can be reckless, y'hear? If I see any of you being dumb, you'll bet I'll find a way to give you guys a kick in the rear end. Sure, you're a kid and you might be a magnet for trouble, but you're not dumb, right?</b></p><p>     Hat Kid let out a shaky laugh, nodding. "Right," she replied, wiping her eyes. "…Grooves might need a stronger kick in the pants. He's…not doing so well. He misses you."</p><p>     <b>I know.</b> <b>But that doesn't mean he's excused from performing his caretaking duties to you kids when you need it. And…maybe…when he's let it settle in that nothing can be done about it…I'll let him know. Maybe when he's like 90 and has no more life to waste.</b></p><p>     "That's playing pretty dirty," Hat Kid remarked.</p><p>     <b>It's the only way we Forbushes can play,</b> he muttered, almost sadly. <b>Have I taught you </b> <b> <em>nothing</em> </b> <b>?</b></p><p>     Hat Kid giggled, hugging him again before sighing sadly. "…I'm gonna miss seeing you, Conductor," she murmured quietly.</p><p>     <b>And I'll miss talking to you. But the 'not wasting your life' thing applies to you too, lass. I want you to </b> <b> <em>know </em> </b> <b>that I'm not suffering, and I'm right here in Subcon. If you ever just feel like venting out to the air after a bad day, I'll be there to listen. But I want you to be </b> <b> <em>happy</em> </b> <b>. Can you do that for me, Hattie? Be happy?</b></p><p>     She nodded, giving him a brave smile. "…I think I can manage," she replied. "…on one condition."</p><p>     <b>I've taught you too much. Lay it on me, lass.</b></p><p>     "…at least <em> once </em> …in the future sometime…you talk to me like we're talking now…and you tell me <em> everything </em>, as best as you can explain it," Hat Kid said. "I won't tell Bow or Grooves if you don't want me to…but I'd just like to know…and maybe try to understand. Okay?"</p><p>     <b>It's not exactly secret knowledge, </b> he replied. <b>It's just never been given to those who aren't taken. You've got a deal.</b></p><p>     "Good." Hat Kid looked up when she saw the distant lights of the studio through the trees, feeling a jolt of separation anxiety. "Conductor—"</p><p>     <b>Shhh…</b> He hugged her tightly, petting her head. <b>Just remember, okay? That I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Hattie. I promise. Trust me?</b></p><p>     Hat Kid clung to him tightly, taking a shaky breath. "…I trust you," she said. Her Conductor kissed her cheek and set her down on the ground.</p><p>     <b>Go on, then. They're looking for you. And Hattie...</b></p><p>     Hat Kid looked up at the sudden serious tone, swallowing hard when she saw the crescent slivers in his eyes glow brighter.</p><p>     <b>Don't ever come here during the new moon. No matter </b> <b> <em>what</em> </b> <b>. Promise me this.</b></p><p>     She nodded. "I promise," she said before hugging his middle tightly. She felt him pat her head before stepping back. "…Goodbye, Conductor."</p><p>     He smiled. <b>Goodbye, Hattie,</b> he said, taking a step back, his image dissolving like mist, leaving behind just a patch of warm air and the scent of pine oil and leather.</p><p>     Hat Kid forced her tears back, inhaling that familiar scent one more time before hurrying out of the woods and onto the studio property just as the front doors opened and Bow poked her head out, looking frantic.</p><p>     "Mr. Grooves!" She shouted back into the reception. "I found her, she's here!" She hurried out to her, looking her over for injury. "Hattie, where the heck have you <em> been </em>? I…we've…" Her hands clenched into the sleeves of her sweater, like she was afraid Hat Kid had vanished into thin air like Conductor had.</p><p>     Hat Kid didn't have time to answer before Grooves came barreling out of the studio and up to Hat Kid, looking her over like Bow had, his face pale with panic. "Darling, where—why didn't you tell us you were—we were worried!" He halted his train wreck of a thought process, dropping to his knees and hugging her tightly. "...don't do that again," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "…I couldn't take it if one of you got hurt…"</p><p>     Hat Kid hugged him back. "…'m sorry, Grooves," she said softly. "I just fell asleep an' lost track of time. I won't do it again."</p><p>     Grooves took a moment to rein in his emotions, standing up. "You should be heading to your ship, then," he said, holding Hat Kid's shoulder in one hand and Bow Kid's in the other. "You must be tired, the both of you."</p><p>     "Yeah, alright," Hat Kid said. "Goodnight, Grooves." She glanced back in the direction of Subcon before smiling at Grooves. She took Bow's hand and grabbed a Time Piece from under her hat, whispering to it before a white flash consumed the two kids. Once the flash dissipated, the two were gone, leaving Grooves to look up at the boxy spaceship that he could just barely make out in the night sky.</p><p>     As he turned to head back into the studio, he stuck his hands into his pockets and realized he still had Bow Kid's journal. He slipped it out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open to the back, where Conductor's entry was.</p><p>
  <b>     DO NOT EVER GO INTO SUBCON DURING THE NEW MOON</b>
</p><p>     The warning was clear and simple, yet like a child who was told not to do something, he instinctively wanted to know what and why. Why the new moon? And what significance did it…?</p><p>     His train of thought trailed off as he looked out the window and saw the sliver of moon in the sky, the gears in his head turning. If that was a waxing crescent, that would mean the day Conductor vanished—as well as the incident a few days ago—would have to have been on the new moon.</p><p>     Wracking his memories back almost all 40 years he had been in the studio, Grooves tried to think if there was ever a time he had gone through the forest during a new moon. No, he mustn't have…perhaps all these years of sheer dumb luck had prevented him from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Conductor <em> had </em>, somehow lived to tell about it, and wrote the warning down, just in case.</p><p>     And instantly, Grooves wanted to know what was out there.</p><p>     A shudder ran through him, and he could practically hear Conductor growl <em> 'Don't you fucking do it, DJ!' </em></p><p>     God, and that message was practically a last request…</p><p>     Grooves looked up at the ship in the sky again, shoving his curiosity to the back of his mind.</p><p>     He promised he'd be a good friend and caretaker to the kids. He could deal with this mystery later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh yeah yeah oh yeah yeah yeah :)))))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Reconnect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grooves cleans out Conductor's office and stumbles on a sudden realization about the kids</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh yeah yeah oh yeah yeah yeah</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Grooves quietly looked through the personal items that were left by Conductor, something he had been neglecting to do since the owl vanished, trying to combat the heaviness in his heart by instead focusing on getting to know his former rival. It was forty-odd years too late, but he tried to focus on the positive side of it rather than wade further into the pool of guilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     As far as he knew, Conductor hadn't taken much of anything with him when he vanished. Grooves wasn't too surprised; what were the use of earthly possessions when you apparently departed to another plane of existence?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     Ugh, don't think 'departed', it made it sound like Conductor was dead…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves sat back in the office chair emptying out drawers, having already found Conductor's whiskey stash, and found a small tumbler next to the bottle with sticky resin on the bottom of the glass. He wondered if Conductor had taken a shot of whiskey at this very desk that night…considering the folder and letter left for Grooves to find, it was a possibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Against his better judgement, Grooves poured himself half a tumbler into the glass and sipped it, grimacing slightly at the taste. Sure, some of the things he'd had on rare occasions had a burn to it, but he wasn't very good at holding his whiskey. But sitting in this chair, sipping from the same glass the owl had a week and a half ago, made him feel…closer. More connected. Hopeful that maybe a recreation universal déjà vu would do something for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He took small, quiet sips as he rummaged through the drawers and boxes, finding a grab-bag of interests in each one. One box contained several books on how to create and run one's own business, accounting, and even his own copy of a high school yearbook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves turned the pages, seeing a few candid photos of the school, including a few of Conductor and his brothers as young owls. One at the start of the school year, where… Redd, was it? Was standing on the hood of his car holding up a handmade sign that read </span>
  <em>
    <span>"SENIORS RULE!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Grooves snickered at the image. He saw Conductor in the photo leaning against the car door, looking up at his teenage brother with fondness. It made Grooves wonder about the age difference between the siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Another photo showed a senior trip to Blue Bird City, depicting some other bird staring down at a list of attractions they would see while Redd was looking upward, eyes shining even in the photo, pointing at something that interested him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     A photo from prom, right after Conductor got punch thrown in his face and without another thought went running around the entire room, and from what it looks like in the photo, shouting something at the top of his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves swallowed hard when he saw the next photo he found. He had quietly flipped through the pages until he got to the page that listed all of the students with their photos and full names, and he traced through every grade along the </span>
  <em>
    <span>F </span>
  </em>
  <span>last names to find the owl. In one of the freshman pages, under 'Connor Forbush', was a blank box with no picture. No picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He put the glass down, rubbing the bride of his nose, his temples already pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The yearbook slipped from his lap and onto the floor. He sighed, leaning down and picking it up, pausing when a photo he hadn't noticed before caught his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     There was a bold title at the top of the page—'The Future of the World'—and it contained little images of a few students that had written down what they wanted to be in the future on a dry-erase board. There were just small wallet-sized pictures peppering the page, of some students having written down things like 'doctor', 'teacher', 'engineer'…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He didn't know why he hadn't noticed this page before, but that was definitely Conductor in one of the pictures, holding up the board with something written on it. Unfortunately, it would seem Conductor </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> know about this picture, and had taken a Sharpie to whatever was written on the board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     What had he written? Something to do with being a director? Or maybe something completely different, a secret dream he never told anyone else?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves sighed, closing the yearbook and putting it back into a box before knocking back the rest of the whiskey in the glass and sorting through more things, most of which were of no consequence. He did take pause with a box full of newspapers, containing articles like, “42 year long streak broken,” “2 birds disturbing the peace in an all out bird brawl,” and there was even one that read “Local metal worker gone missing after major accident; last seen by Subcon.” Grooves winced at that article. The date of its publication was years ago. Were they ever found? Would Conductor ever be found?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It seemed another thing he and Conductor shared was an inability to rid themselves of things from the past, no matter how painful they served as reminders. He debated for a good while before pushing the box to the 'get rid of' pile. None of these were needed anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves poked around until all of the drawers and cabinets were clear, electing to keep that portrait up on the wall, and as ridiculous as it was,made a move to look in the smallest places to see if Conductor had managed to squeeze somewhere to hide something else. He found an odd space behind a low-hanging photo on the wall and removed the frame, revealing a hidden security system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves found it amusing at first. Conductor went through the trouble of hiding this entire thing, and for what reason? It might’ve already been installed before he and the owl even owned the studio, so he figured Conductor must have just claimed the security room as his office; maybe to fulfill whatever anxieties or suspicions he had about what happened on the sets. The screen was blank, but there was an unmarked tape sticking out of the VCR. He absently wondered what it had recorded, and pushed it in, letting it rewind before pressing </span>
  <em>
    <span>play</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It was the camera in the corner of the reception, and it was mostly nothing of interest, save for a few times one of the owls or penguins stalked around with props and crates, and seeing himself go in and out of the set doors. He swallowed hard when he saw himself on the screen carrying a journal and back to the set doors and possibly to the break room, realizing that this was the day Conductor vanished. He pressed </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast forward</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the remote until it was almost midnight, then pressed </span>
  <em>
    <span>play</span>
  </em>
  <span> again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He saw Connor walk into the reception, dressed immaculately in his finest work clothes, and look around at the large room like he was remembering how it looked like before turning to the doors of Grooves’ side. He saw, clear as day, Conductor kiss his fingers and put them on the doors before turning and walking out through the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And that was that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves stared at the screen for the longest time before turning it off and sitting back. He didn't know how he felt…a mix of terrible, for having practically blown Conductor off on his last day here, but he also felt…okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It was an odd feeling…it was an okay sort of relief that Conductor wasn't torn away kicking and screaming…instead, he left with a sort of calm dignity, and was thoughtful enough to leave that kiss on the doors for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Grooves had the note, and that was a valuable keepsake of the owl…now he had this tape so he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> his old friend. He took the tape out and held it in his hands, seeing his vision blur from tears falling on the lenses of his glasses. He paid it no heed for a good long while, then tucked the tape into his pocket and cleaned off his glasses, covering the security slot with the portrait and taking the small throwaway box out of the office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     This was a good thing, he told himself. He managed to get through Conductor's office, that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If he could do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, going through Conductor's train would be bearable now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He passed the girls on the way out to the little fire pit he had made behind the studio—as though he'd put </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Conductor's in the garbage—and saw that Hat Kid was doodling on a little sheet of paper. He did a double-take when he saw that it was a picture of her and Bow bursting out of a birthday cake with the number 13 on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Oh. That's right. Bow’s birthday was coming up in about a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     That meant that they'd have to go home soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And he'd be alone...</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     'Reconnect with them'</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He swallowed hard, tightening his grip on the box as he carried it to the fire pit, the line from Conductor's letter flitting across his mind. God, it seemed like every internal crisis he had, Conductor had the response in that letter…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He set the box aside for later, heading back inside to gather everything else up, glancing back every so often at the kids. Hattie had finished her drawing and was doodling something else while Bow alternated between watching the moon penguins and reading through one of her books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…So your birthday is coming up," he began in an awkward semblance of a conversational starter. "…do you have any plans?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…I was thinking of a party," Hat replied, sounding as though it was just a thought and not a solid plan. Grooves knew Hat Kid always thought about a party in the studio, since the building was so big and there would be lots of room for whatever she could some up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Bow snorted softly, not seeming as enthusiastic as she would usually be about her birthday. "Last party we threw was a wreck," she said. "I don't think Conductor would let us—" She broke off with an audible choke, her expression fighting to stay neutral but failing miserably. Her book dropped from her hands, her shoulders shaking. "I'm….I'm sorry, Mr. Grooves, I didn't mean—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Darling, it's alright," Grooves reassured, hurrying over to Bow, kneeling down so he could look the girl in the eye. "It's alright. Hey." He took a kerchief out of his pocket and gave it to Bow. "…Darling, no one's going to be upset if you talk about him. I'd actually be more upset if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He gave Bow a brave smile. "…Go on, you can finish your thought."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He waited while Bow dried her face and got her emotions under control. Bow wrung the kerchief in her hands, her eyes downcast. "…I was just thinking that C-Conductor wouldn't be thrilled with a party…after the whole…" She chewed her lip hard. "That…was my fault…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hat Kid walked up and hugged her tightly. "Oh, cheer up, Belle," she said smiling, though her eyes looked a little wet. "You know that past the horrible life-threatening part of it, he had fun singing with us afterward to cheer you up!" She giggled a little. "Didja know I caught him singing when he thought no one was listening? I caught it on tape."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Bow let out a bark of choked laughter, wiping her face again. "…yeah," she murmured, sniffling. "I just meant…" She trailed off quietly, wringing her hands. Hat hugged her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "…Belle, I don't think it would be…disrespectful or whatever, if we had a party here," she said delicately. "One of the owls told me Conductor said he'd never throw another party after </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> party he threw. Let's face it. It's the cleanup he hated." She smiled when Bow laughed again. "We'll just…you know. Make sure we don't make a big mess this time around." She paused, glancing at Grooves. "…I mean, if—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "You two can have a party here if you want," Grooves quickly put in. "It's your birthday, and you two deserve it." He ruffled their hair, standing up. "Just let me know what you'd like, and I'll arrange it, alright?" He headed back to the office, mulling over his thoughts as he heard the two quietly plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     A party here. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> be throwing it. Oh God, what was he going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dbhdjddj anyway i forgot to tag post game but uh i guess i should explain that after the game the kids go back to the planet and visit sometimes and this entire story is one of those times so just hhhhhh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ask for the Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conductor makes a deal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi what the fuck it's been what. 4 months. I'm trying to work on this but heehee i can't do shit anyway here's a flashback chapter :]c</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>     <em>Weeks Ago…</em></b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Connor Forbush was lost.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He sat down on a log, swearing up and down that he'd smack Grooves upside the head and argue even more and demand why he dared to look at that damn journal or keep him from burning it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He was only in this forest just to calm down from an incredible argument with Grooves. Conductor's mind whirled with frustration and panic still, all circling around Grooves and his journal and the stupid emotions that just </span>
    <span>had </span>
    <span>to intensify with each passing minute.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Vicious little things. All gnawing at his mind and heart.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He looked up at the sky, sighing when he saw that it was getting late. He had to find SOME landmark that would point him back to town before nightfall. Normally, he'd use the sun as a guide, but it seemed no matter where he walked, the sun would be somewhere else in the sky.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     So with that weirdness happening, he opted to pick a direction and just walk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     And walk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     And walk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     And walk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     And then the sun set.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     The sky was dark with no moon to illuminate his path. The knife he kept in his pocket was now clutched in his hand, ready and waiting to be used on any creature that would show up and try to make a meal out of him. But to his surprise, he heard nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Literally, middle of summer, nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     No insects, no bats, no odd hoots and growls he normally heard from the border of Bird's Nest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     The air was unnaturally still, yet it tingled with the kind of electric feel he normally felt during lightning storms, only it felt more…alive. Like he was walking to the beat of something's heart.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Those existential thoughts began making his heart race, putting his entire body on edge. His gaze flicked around, cursing himself up and down for not making sure he knew a way back out of the forest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He had to get out of here.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Right as he had that thought, everything went silent. Somehow even more silent than before, like everything stopped existing except for him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     And suddenly, he knew what a bug in a jar felt like.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He was being watched.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     From EVERYWHERE.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "…Who's there!?" he demanded, spinning around in place. "I know you're there!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     No response was heard, but he had a sensation of a tidal wave of SOMETHING incoming. He wasn't wrong. Moments later, the feeling of having the breath pulled right out of his lungs, the strength from his muscles, and the senses from his head, collapsing on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He was terrified. He was laying on the forest floor, unable to smell the earth under his nose, unable to move to break his fall. He was screaming inside his mind, feeling like something was trying to drill right into his skull.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     You should not have come here, mortal.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor froze when he heard a voice—voices? One, more?—right next to his ear. A strangled croak left his throat, a pitiful substitute for the scream that was brewing up in his chest. </span>
    <span class="u">
      <span>'Oh god oh god oh fuck please…!'</span>
    </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     We send out the warnings. Sensible creatures heed them. Even the simplest of beasts know that those who come at this time remain for all of eternity.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Eternity?! No. No no no no no, this couldn't be happening…! Conductor's body twitched in protest to make it MOVE, to do SOMETHING—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He flinched hard when he felt something curl around his legs and drag him across the forest floor. His fingers twitched weakly in an attempt to dig into the ground to stop whatever it was from dragging him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     Do not fight it, mortal. It will be painless. You belong to us now. All who come here become part of us.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     No! Oh god NO!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He summoned all the willpower in his soul as he dug his claws into the dirt, his muscles straining to respond to his command. His hand caught onto a thick root in the ground, and he used every ounce of strength left in him to hold on.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     Do not fight it. Let go, mortal, and accept your fate.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "N-no!" Conductor growled out, tightening his grip on the root. "No…no!" He couldn't let himself be taken. He couldn't die like this, he couldn't leave them like this! Not when things are like this!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "Not…can't…J-Josh!" he groaned, his muscles screaming in protest as whatever it was that had a hold of him pulled harder. "J-Josh! S-stop…can't…go!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     The pull on him gave a strong jerk, and his hand was dislodged from the root, his body dragging across the floor again. He clawed at the ground, fighting with all his strength to stop his body from going to wherever he was being taken, to keep from going where there was no return.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     The energetic static in the air was buzzing at his skin, bringing his senses back, making him fight that much harder.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     Why do you fight the inevitable, mortal? Eternity here will not be torture, just another existence for you. Do not fight it.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "F-fuck you!" Conductor growled, clawing harder. "I can't…I can't go like this! He…needs me!" He grabbed for another root and missed. "Can't go…until he's-!" He yelped when he felt a painful prickling in his legs, similar to the sensation of his legs falling asleep. He jerked his head around to see what was happening, and saw that he was being dragged by some intangible force into a clearing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Oh god, that clearing…something about it terrified the absolute hell out of him. He knew that if he went in there, he wouldn't be coming back out. He let out a frustrated, terrified scream, his fingers second-knuckle-deep into the dirt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "Please!" he screamed, straining to crawl forward while he was being dragged back. "Please, I'm begging you! I can't go, not now!" Tears poured down his face, his fingers bleeding from cuts and torn claws. "He needs me!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Everything stopped.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Those last words he spoke seemed to echo through the trees from the stillness, but Conductor didn't care. He kept clawing and crawling in the dirt, sobbing hysterically. "P-please!" he bawled, his body shaking violently. "Let…let me make things right! Please!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     That energetic, staticy presence made itself known again, a voice right next to his ear.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     You beg not for yourself,</b>
    <span> it said. </span>
    <b>There is no concern for your own soul. Who is this "Josh" you speak of?</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor's breath hitched with sobs, his face buried in his dirt-covered arm. "M-my friend…" he stammered through his tears, no longer caring on what he referred to Grooves as. This wasn't some bird that would spread around rumors on he and Grooves. "He… just wanted to help… I didn't listen and…" His shoulders shook as that horrible moment was replayed in his mind, though it was only earlier this night. "I can't leave him after that… he doesn't deserve that…just want to have a bit more time…make up for what I did! That's all!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He let out a fresh sob, pounding the forest floor with his fist. "I don't give a FUCK about m-my soul!" he cried. "I'd sell it in a HEARTBEAT for him!" He collapsed on the ground, shaking and crying like a child.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He didn't know how long he was left there, and wasn't even fully aware when the invisible force entwined around his legs unwound itself and vanished.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     Your intentions are pure,</b>
    <span> the voice said when he was sobbed out enough to listen. </span>
    <b>Never before have we had a mortal beg for the life of another rather than itself.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Well la-dee-dah. Conductor didn't FEEL all that special. He felt lower than the dirt he was lying in, his heart torn to pieces over having to suddenly disappear after that disaster with Grooves.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     Those who come at this time belong to us,</b>
    <span> the voice continued. </span>
    <b>That is a fate none are exempt from. Is the life of that whom you love truly worth your soul?</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor's fists clenched tightly, his eyes, tear-filled as they were, hard as steel. "Joshua is worth 100 of me," he said. "He's worth my life. I've already killed myself in my mind, and have already tried physically. He doesn't need this…" He swallowed hard, lowering his head again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "…Let me make things at least a </span>
    <span>little </span>
    <span>better," he said, his voice a shaky whisper. "…and I swear, you can have what's left of me."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     You ask for so much. More than has been granted before.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     "You have my word. And my soul. You can HAVE it! I don't care, just…let me finish what I started!"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     There was a heavy silence, and Conductor began to grow disheartened. He was bartering with some kind of godlike forest entity, in what universe would—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     We hold you to this, mortal man.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor was suddenly filled with energy, as much as he had when he first left his home that morning. He swallowed hard, shakily standing up, hissing when he felt a static around his hands, arms, and front, looking down to see that past the dirt, his cuts were gone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     You have a debt to us</b>
    <span>, the voice said, the tone genial, yet underlying with an unspoken threat.</span>
    <b> And we will collect.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor swallowed again, clenching his hands tightly. "I'll pay," he swore. "I might cheat on my taxes, but I pay back the debts that matter. I swear, I'll pay up. Just let me fix things up."</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>     So you shall. Go.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Conductor didn't think to ask 'where', he just took off running. He'd never run faster in his life, and not even the most horrible of creatures here could catch him if they tried. He ran for what was SURE to be a full hour before he broke out of a line of trees—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     —and was back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     He stood on the border of the forest, staring slack-jawed at the studio in the distance before an instinctive niggling at his back drove him to keep going until he was inside the building. He shut and locked the door, ran to the set, and used whatever Subcon deity-given energy that was given to him to get right back to work on his movie.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Good god. Fixing things up could take as little as next year or as much as the rest of his life before he'd have to call in his debt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     But it would be worth it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     His beloved Joshua was worth it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hee hoo who's still here fbxgfhdj</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Make all the guesses you want on this. Might be a while before I continue this, let alone just explain it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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